- Human After All - Supernatural Fanfiction
by FrostSinth
Summary: Set after Season 11, contains spoilers/some liberties taken. Upon leaving his creation, God gives the Winchesters a Lost Tablet which details the birth of a very unique power, one designed to replace him and his sister. But the wheels have already been set into motion; when God left, this latent power was activated. Now the boys must rush to find it and protect it at all costs.
1. A New Season

**SPOILERS FOR SEASONS ONE THROUGH ELEVEN**  
This storyline follows after season eleven of Supernatural. May contain spoilers for the rest of the seasons so if you're not caught up, read at your own risk. Characters, universe, and concept are copyright to their respective owners. Plotline/new characters are copyrighted to me. Do not reuse/repost without my expression written permission. And most of all, ENJOY!

5:30am. The smart phone resting on the bedside table began to chime, quivering as it vibrated against the old, worn wood. From within the mess of pillows and blankets upon the queen sized bed a pale, slender fingered hand stretched out, groping about clumsily. The small desk lamp was the first casualty, clattering to the rug as the hand slid about the bedside table almost violently. Then the photo frame fell, landing with a soft thud, picture side up. A family of five stood smiling in the frame; an older man with greying blonde-brown hair and an older woman with dark brown hair streaked with silver sat before a trio of similar faced offspring, two boys and a girl, all looking well into their twenties, perhaps older.

The searching hand knocked over a pen and book next before finally finding it's target. The hand slid back into the blankets, and a moment later the chiming stopped. The white walled bedroom was silent for a moment, save for the soft instrumental sounds of music coming from a laptop at the opposite end of the room. It was another minute or two until the heap of black covers began to shift again. A pillow tumbled off the bed, revealing a golden haired head slowly rising like the sun from amid the dark hills. Albeit a matted, tangled sun, which flopped about the girl's pale shoulders as she sat up and rubbed at her face.

She blinked crystal blues eyes a few times, hands still resting on her cheeks as if she had simply forgotten to lower them. Another moment and she rubbed at one eye, stretching her other hand out to the side with a wide yawn pulling at her rounded chin and straight jawline. She rubbed at her face one more time as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up slowly and adjusting the oversized brown night shirt which fell to her knees, featuring some sleepy looking long necked cartoon giraffes with fixed eyes sitting below the text "it's been a loooong day".

Bare feet padded on the cream-colored shag rug as she walked around the end of her bed. She ignored the items on the floor and made her way into the closet, groggily picking up clothes off a pile on the floor. Right pile dirty. Left pile clean. Maybe.

One pair of pants, a pair of panties, and a shirt later, she stumbled out of the closet and to the door of the room, pulling it open with a muffled creak. She turned left, into the small bathroom, its door perpendicular to the bedroom's, left ajar with two beach towels hanging off the corner. A bra hung from the towel rack, and the girl slowly changed into her outfit, not bothering to close the door.

A soft yawn and the sound of scratching on the rug announced the tan coated pup before the girl turned around to see him.

"Morning Gronk." She mumbled, bending down to scratch the dog behind one floppy ear. He looked up at her with his doe-brown eyes, his black nose wiggling at her.

Within fifteen minutes the girl's rat nest of hair was brushed out and pulled into a pony-tail on the top of her head, a quick layer of foundation makeup was applied to her pale cheeks to cover up old acne scars, she was dressed in jeans and tank top, deodorized, and had a minty wisp to her breath. The short, stocky dog sat in the doorway of the bathroom, waiting with a soft whine every few minutes.

When the woman turned to leave the bathroom, flicking off the light switch and stuffing her phone into her pocket, the pup's curled tail wagged vehemently and he bounded off across the small living room to the front door. She followed him, yawning again and grabbing his leash and her keys off the hook by the door. A click resounded as she snapped on his leash, followed by a thunk and shwick as she unlocked the padlock and chain on the door before sliding it open.

Struggling to pull the dog back closer to her as she locked the door again with the same hand, the girl let out a final soft yawn. Then she turned, half skipping down two flights of stairs to the ground floor and out the apartment complex. Left she went, past the parking lot full of Maryland plated cars and down the sidewalk towards the grassy areas between the rest of the old brick buildings of the complex. The black '67 Impala didn't even register to her as she passed it by.

"That her?" Asked the gruff looking man behind the steering wheel, nodding his tightened jaw at the blonde.

"Must be. Came out of the right apartment." Replied his companion with a sigh, a taller but younger looking man with long light brown hair. His brow was furrowed, his lips thin.

"Alright then. Let's get this show on the road." The driver began to shift, reaching for the car door handle.

"Dean, wait," The other man started, eyes dropping to the side forlornly. "Maybe we should just watch her for a bit. I mean, the other leads didn't pan out. Maybe she's just another dead end."

"Yeah, and maybe she's in danger right now. Maybe a hoard of demons is just waiting around that corner to jump her bones and drag her down to hell." Shot Dean almost angrily, his frustration and impatience dragging down the corners of his mouth. He glared at his companion, tight jawed. "I'm not letting any angel or demon jackass get their hands on-"

"I know, I know." His brother interrupted. "But we're about to ruin her life! She has no idea what's out there right now. Don't.." He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Don't you think we should be absolutely sure she's the one we're looking for before we throw her into this life?"

Dean sighed as well, his jaw loosening as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright fine. We'll play it cool, keep an eye on her. But we're not sitting in here all day." He proclaimed, reaching into the glove box and pulling out fake FBI badges. He tossed one at his brother and opened the door.

"And what do we tell her?" Asked his brother, coming out the other side and looking across the top of the Impala.

"We'll just tell her we're...investigating something in the area, looking for witnesses." Dean offered haltingly, throwing his hands out to the side as he shrugged.

"Witnesses to what?" the taller man scoffed.

"That's classified information, Sammy." The older brother replied with a smirk, closing the car door and making his way to the sidewalk.

Sam sighed again; it had been a day full of sighs. He shook his head as he closed his door and pocketed the badge. "Maybe we should wait for Cas."

Dean put his hands in his pockets as he strode across the road, glancing sidelong in each direction as he did. "I'm not putting all my eggs in one angel, Sam." He retorted. "Cas will get here when he gets here. He'll confirm she's who we think she is - or isn't- and then we'll take her back to the bunker with us or let her get on with her life." He stared down at his worn boots, his brow drawn tight. "Until then, just in case, we're going to stick to her like flies on shit."

"It's Friday. She's probably gotta go to work." Sam noted, skipping a bit to catch up to his brother.

Dean paused at the other side of the road, stepping up to the sidewalk and turning to face the taller Winchester. "Not today she doesn't. She's a material witness in a federal investigation."

Sam released another deep breath, putting his own hands in the worn tan coat's pockets and shrugging his broad shoulders. "Okay. Let's go."

The older Winchester shook his head as he turned back down the sidewalk the girl had taken only a minute or two earlier. "I really hope this is a damn wild goose chase." he grumbled as he went. "After Amara, and before that Cain and the Mark, and before THAT the Leviathan and before THAT the damn apocalypse-"

"Yeah," Sam interrupted with a chuckle. "We could really use a break from saving the world."

Dean huffed, amused. "You can say that again."

They saw the girl and her dog come back into view again ahead of them. For a few more strides they walked in silence, slowly gaining on the girl.

"You know, Dean," Sam began, glancing at his brother briefly. "If she's... well, you know... maybe after she's safe..."

"You think she's the answer?" Dean finished. "The 'peace on earth' bullshit ending everyone hopes for?" He sounded skeptical, mocking.

"Maybe." Said Sam. "I mean, if she's what God was hinting at and what that lost tablet says, maybe she's destined to bring about a normal world."

"Relatively normal." Dean pointed out. "There'd still be monsters and demons."

"Yeah but no more 'end of the world' stuff," Sam countered "No more big bads or apocalypses. We can just go back to hunting. Regular hunting. Saving people from ghosts and fangs."

Dean gave a small smile, clicking his tongue. "Yeah, those were the good ol' days. Simpler times." He looked up from the cracked sidewalk with a half-laugh. "Hell, we get in good with this girl we might able to retire. Grow old."

It was Sam's turn to scoff. "Seems like the most impossible thing we've ever encountered." He half-mumbled forlornly.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

The girl turned, pausing mid step to look over her shoulder towards the source of the voice. To men- two very handsome men- were walking up to her. They were both in jeans, one with a black t-shirt the other in white, each with a worn looking work coat. The shorter one had cropped hair with the tips brushed up as if he had just run his hand up through it, and the taller one had long hair that fell in a frame about his strong jaw.

"Hey. Can I help you?" She replied, tightening her grip on the leash as Gronk jerked at the other end, straining to reach the men.

"We hope so." Said the taller of the two. Bother of them reached into their inner coat pockets, looking about as if worried they'd be seen. The girl stiffened a bit, but relaxed when they pulled out small black, wallet like things.

"I'm Special Agent Smith, FBI" Said the shorter of the pair, flipping open the wallet to show her his badge. "This is Special Agent Smith, no relation." He gestured to his partner who flipped open his own badge. "We'd like to ask you a few questions." He continued as they tucked their badges back away.

The girl looked surprised, her eyebrows raised, her eyes widened. "Oh, umm, what about?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably as the dog lunged toward them again, its tail wagging. He took a small step back, clearing his throat and glancing from side to side. "We're looking for witnesses to a crime that happened in the area recently."

"Oh wow!" The girl exclaimed, pulling on the leash. "Gronk!" She hissed at him. Then she looked up at the pair apologetically. "Sorry, he's very friendly but he comes on a little strong."

"No problem." Replied Sam with a smile. "So does my partner sometimes." He dropped down to one knee "Hey bud!" He exclaimed, scratching the dog behind both ears.

"I wish I could help you guys, but I can't think of anything that might have been related to a crime." She said, looking over at Dean.

"Well, we can't release many details now, still being an ongoing investigation and all, but has there been anything, anything at all, out of the ordinary recently?" He asked.

She shrugged. "No, not really. Not that I can think of."

"No strange sights, sounds..." She shook her head to each. "...Smells?"

"Smells?" She echoed.

"Yeah. Maybe, sulfur, or smoke?" Sam suggested, looking up from the ground. The fat dog had comfortably sat himself leaning against the "Agent's" knee, panting as Sam rubbed at his offered belly.

"Umm, no... no, nothing like that..." She said, tracing her bottom lip as if really thinking about it. "I mean, a while back there sounded like a big group arguing with each other late at night, over by the leasing office, but I couldn't even hear what was being said. And I didn't get close enough to even see anyone."

"Ah-ha, interesting!" Dean latched on eagerly with a smile, pulling out a small notepad. "That could be helpful. When was this?"

She shrugged, "Ummm, I'm not sure. I don't really remember. Maybe... a week ago? Perhaps longer?" She passed one hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, the days all kind of blend together..."

"No problem, no problem." Said "Special Agent Smith". He smiled his most charming smile. "But hey, why don't I take down your name, hmm?" He asked, pen at the ready. "For the report."

She hesitated momentarily. "Uh, Alexandra." She said after a pause. "Alexandra Hart."

"Alexandra. Hart." Dean echoed, scribbling it in his pad almost dramatically.

"And you live in the complex?" Asked Sam, giving the dog one final pat and standing slowly.

"Um, yeah, yeah." She nodded. "Right over there." She pointed towards the building they had come from.

"Now, pardon me for prying, but that accent, that's not a Maryland accent." Dean noted, still giving his best, most winning smile.

"I didn't notice I had any accent." She said, returning his smile, although her's was a few molars less. "But you're right, I'm uh, from Massachusetts. Just recently moved down."

"Oh really? How recently?" Sam chimed in.

"Uh, February. Early February."

"That's a big move." Dean pointed out casually. "You got family in the area?"

She shook her head. "No, no... just uh, some college friends. The family's all in Massachusetts."

"Big family?" Dean inquired, still smiling.

Alexandra looked at him, seemingly puzzled at the line of questioning. "Depends on your definition I guess? I have two older brothers, both married. And my folks live up there."

"Interesting! Uh, what made you move down?" Asked Sam.

She looked between the two, confusion furrowing her brow. "Um, not that I mind answering these questions, but uh, what does this have to do with-"

"Oh! Well, nothing. Nothing, just uh... making conversation." Sam said quickly.

She looked at him skeptically. "Riiight... well, I mean, I have to get to work so-"

"What's your profession?" Dean interrupted, sounding very matter-of-fact, raising his pen again.

"Um, I'm an infant teacher at a daycare in Bethesda." The brother's exchanged a look. "...What?"

Sam sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Alright look, I'm gonna be honest with you. We're not looking for witnesses for a crime." Dean looked at him with shock, glancing sideways over at the girl as he tried to figure what his brother's plan was. "Actually, we're canvassing." He said with a small nod, looking down at his feet briefly. "There's been some, ah, abductions recently. And the victims all fit a very particular profile."

"Right!" Exclaimed Dean, a bit too enthusiastically as he caught on. "Right. The victims were all new to the area, with no family nearby. Young. Blonde. Pretty." He flashed her a smile. "Lived alone and worked in childcare."

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed, raising one hand to her chest.

"So you can see why we'd be concerned about your safety." Sam stated.

"Our intel tells us this complex is where he's going to choose his next victim." Dean added. "So we've been staking the place out since yesterday, and you're the only young blonde who lives alone."

"You've been... watching me?" She echoed. Her face grew suspicious as she looked between the two.

"What?" Dean paused, leaning his head closer with his hands in his pockets. "What, oh, No! No no, I mean,..." He stammered and struggled around his words as he tried to evade her suspicion. "We've been watching everyone. Already questioned a few other blondes who lived here" he lied "Only one other lives alone and she's in ah, retail! So uh..."

"You just said I was the only blonde that lived alone." Alex pointed out. Dean sputtered and stammered uselessly.

"Look we're just trying to help." Sam cut in. "This guy, he's nasty. We don't know what kind of hell he puts his victims through but-"

"It ain't pretty." Dean interrupted, cocking his head to one side briefly with a grim expression. "We just want to stop it from happening again."

Alexandra was quiet for a moment, looking back and forth between the two. Her dog whined softly at her feet, looking up at her.

"How do I know you two aren't the abductors?" She asked guardedly.

"What? I mean... we're... we're FBI!" Dean said, smiling nervously. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge again. "See?"

"Yeah, I saw that..." She looked down at the badge again. "But I couldn't really tell a real badge from a fake one. Plus I've never heard of FBI in jeans and boots. And I have to get to work-"

"No!" Sam almost shouted. She looked at him, startled. "I mean, we can't let you go to work. It's not safe. This guy could grab you anywhere."

She shook her head, taking a step back. "I'm not calling out of work on the whim of some crazy people trying to convince me I'm going to be abducted!" She exclaimed, taking another few steps back. The brothers looked at each other, desperation starting to show in their eyes. "Look, I'm not saying you're lying, just... I don't know, I don't believe you. So uh..." She tugged at the dog's leash, continuing to back away.

"We know its a lot to take in, trust me, we've seen some crazy stuff out there." Sam tried, holding his hands out as if he could smooth over the situation with them. "A-and we're not saying you have to go anywhere with us or even let us into your apartment, ok?"

She hesitated, looking back and forth between them. "Then what?"

"Just..." Sam paused, dropping his hands and sighing. "Just call in sick today. And let us sit outside of your apartment and keep an eye on things, ok? And... and don't go anywhere alone."

She considered this for a moment, studying Sam's face.

"Well... I don't know..." she hesitated.

"Hey, I know." Dean put in. "We have a, well, let's call him an expert. A guy who knows this case inside and out." He nodded to the girl. "Let me give him a call, get him in here. He'll be able to know for sure if you're... ah... next." He shrugged his shoulders, holding his hands palms up at his sides. "If he clears you, we'll leave you alone, send a courtesy patrol for a few nights to make sure you're safe."

She looked him over. "And if he doesn't?"

The brothers exchanged a look. Dean shrugged again. "We'll cross that bridge when we burn it." He said with a coy smile.

Alexandra sighed deeply, running her hand over her head again. "Ok... yeah I guess." She said exasperatedly. "Give me a moment, I'm gonna call out." she turned, pulling her phone out of her pocket and walking a few paces away.

Sam and Dean huddled together. "That was close." Sam said quietly, careful that the girl wouldn't overhear them.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah. You can say that again. I'll message Cas, tell him to get his winged butt over here."

Sam paused, looking over at the blonde girl. He listened to her on the phone for a moment, making sure it wasn't the police on the other end. But it sounded legit.

"It's hard to believe, right?" He said after a moment.

"Hmm?" Dean had pulled his phone out of his pocket and was scrolling down through his contacts.

"About her." Sam nodded in her direction. "She seems so... normal. So human." He laughed softly. "She doesn't even know about this whole other world, and yet she's supposed to-"

"We don't know that yet." Dean interrupted, pointing one finger at him. "I'm still thinking this whole thing is just a flop and we're going to be leaving here empty handed tonight and that girl is gonna go back to her life, none the wiser." He concluded as he went back to his phone.

Sam sighed. "She's just... so young."

Dean smirked playfully. "Not that young." But then his face turned serious. "Older than we were when we were pulled into this life. She's an adult."

"Yeah but we didn't really have much of a choice."

"If she…. " he dropped off. "If she is what she might be..." Dean sighed, shaking his head slightly. "She's not going to have much of a choice either."

Sam's jaw tightened with determination. "I'm gonna make sure she gets one." He said, looking over at her as she hung up the phone and walked back over.

"Ok... Smiths." She said. "They weren't happy, but I'm cleared for the day." She looked between them. "What now?"

"I texted our guy." Dean stated, holding up his phone. "He should be here as soon as he gets it."

"He's nearby?" She inquired.

Dean shrugged. "Close enough that he'll be here fast."

She sighed deeply, playing with the leash in her hands. "Alright."

Sam tilted his head, trying to get a better look at her face angled towards the ground. "You ok?"

She looked up at him. She sighed again, gave a little shrug. "I, I guess?" She replied. "I don't know. Not sure I believe you guys at all, but..." She shrugged again.

"Don't worry. We're gonna keep you safe." Dean firmly assured her.

She looked back at the ground, nodding slightly.

"Why don't you go back to your apartment. Have some breakfast, get some more sleep." Sam offered. "We'll knock when our guy gets here. Okay?"

She scoffed softly. "Ch-eah. I'm gonna be able to get back to sleep now." She gave a small smile, shaking her head. Then she nodded to them and turned and made her way back to her apartment. The boys followed behind, exchanging grim expressions behind her back.

They parted ways at the Impala, not saying a word, and she skipped up the stairs to her apartment door, unlocking it and going in. The brothers followed her progress with complex expressions.

"She's pretty hot." Dean noted with a slight tilt of his head, hands still in his pockets as he leaned against the Impala.

Sam looked at him incredulously. "Dude."

Dean shrugged. "Just tellin it like it is, Sammy."

He shook his head, "She's gotta be like, a decade younger than you."

"Hey, age don't mean a thing when it comes to love." He retorted, pulling out his phone to check the time and see if Castiel had replied.

Sam caught sight of Alexandra through the window, looking down at them. He offered her a small smile and a wave. She nodded, then disappeared back into the room. Sam leaned against the Impala next to Dean.

"Even if she'd give you the time of day," Sam continued "Being that she's... well, you know..." He looked over at his brother. "Would you really want to risk it?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably, shuffling his feet. "Right... Hadn't thought of that..." He offered one of his playful smirks again. "Still man. She's hot. In a plain-jane, girl-next-door kind of way."

Sam shook his head. "You're crazy."

"Don't act like you weren't checking her out too." He shot back. Now it was Sam's turn to shuffle uncomfortably. He jabbed his younger brother with one finger. "Hey." When Sam looked over, he smirked. "Dibbs."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not calling 'dibbs' on a girl. We're not in middle school."

Dean shrugged again. "Well, we'll just have to see won't we."

Sam looked down at his feet, his expression becoming grim. "What's the plan here, Dean?" He asked.

"Well, I was thinking asking her out for drinks first-"

"Not about that." He interrupted. He exhaled softly, crossing his arms. "About her. If she..." He dropped off.

Neither one spoke for a moment. Dean watched the windows to her apartment, Sam watched his boots. Both of them had an idea of what the other was thinking. When you're together as long as they had been, sometimes not saying what you were thinking was easier.

"We're gonna save her." Sam said finally. He looked over at his brother. "The universe owes us a win. I don't care what it takes. It's not gonna come to..." He dropped off again, clenching his jaw.

Dean looked over at him with an equally grim expression. He shook his head slightly. "I hope it doesn't. Hell, I'm still hoping this is all some crazy hoax." His eyes swung back to the windows on the third floor above them. "But we're going to do what needs to be done, Sammy." His voice was emotionless, almost cold. "Just like we always do."

"Did you find her?" Came the sudden gruff question from behind the brothers.

They both turned to see the man who had appeared out of thin air, a serious expression on his handsome face, dressed in a dress shirt and trench coat.

"Well hello to you too Cas." Dean said coarsely, straightening and turning to face him properly.

Castiel shot him a look. "I'm sorry I am not in the mood to exchange pleasantries." He half-snapped. "I have been all over creation looking for answers and am not interested in-"

Sam patted the air before him. "Alright alright, Cas, relax."

The man took a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. "So. Did you find her?"

Dean crossed his arm and looked over his shoulder at the apartment with one eyebrow raised. "Yeah, maybe. She fits the profile."

"We were hoping you could confirm if she is or isn't." Sam interjected.

Castiel nodded, following Dean's gaze. "Very well. Let us see."


	2. A New Season pt 2

The knock on the door resounded throughout the quiet apartment. Gronk jumped up off the couch with a soft, excited growl, bounding over to the door. Alexandra stood up more slowly, nervously wringing her hands. She had picked up the apartment the best she could. But she just couldn't shake the ominous feeling that had washed over her.

Putting the dog behind the gate, she went over and peered through the peep hole on the door. The two "agents" faces were beyond, distorted by the bubble, in addition to another man. She let out a steading breath, leaning back from the hole and bracing one hand against the frame. Turning the tumbler, she unlocked the door and pulled it open slowly.

"Agents." She said softly, stepping back. The brothers gave her a small nod as they entered, their expressions serious again. The third man was staring at her with a hard, set expression on his face.

Closing the door behind them, she led the way into the tiny living room, going to the opposite wall before turning to face them with her arms crossed.

"Thanks for letting us in." Said Sam gently. The stout dog was already standing on his hind feet against the man's leg, and Sam scratched him behind one ear absent-mindedly.

Alexandra nodded slightly. "So...That was fast...any news?"

Dean turned and gestured to Cas. "This is the guy that we were telling you about. Castiel, this is-"

"I can see who you are." The man interrupted, and Alexandra looked over at him with surprise. He strode the few short steps between them and bowed his head slightly. "I can feel the power of your soul just from this limited proximity. And I must say it is an honor to stand in your presence."

"Um... what?" Perplexed, Alexandra looked back and forth between the brothers. "My... my what?"

The two exchanged shocked, disbelieving looks. "Cas, are you saying-" Dean started.

"Yes." Castiel interrupted again. "I am unable to completely confirm that she is the one the prophecy spoke of without touching it, but based upon what I can feel just from standing here..." He looked over at the brothers. "I have no doubt it is her."

"What the fuck is he talking about?" Alexandra snapped angrily, backing a step away. "Touch what now?! Who the hell is he?"

"I am an Angel of the Lo-"

"OOOOKaaay Cas, that's enough out of you buddy." Dean jumped in quickly, grabbing Castiel by both shoulders and gently steering him away from the incredulous girl.

"Dean, why are you pulling me away?"

Sam closed the distance between himself and the girl quickly. "Sorry, sorry about him. I mean, he's a nice guy, very very smart but not all there in the head." His eyes darted back to the others. "Think Shelock Holmes. We didn't get a chance to warn you, sorry if he frightened you, he's harmless I swear." His words came out in a rush.

"Alright, someone tell me what in the hell is going on here." She demanded, backing even further away from the trio.

"You haven't told her?" the trench coated man inquired, looking at the brothers.

They exchanged another look.

"We wanted to be sure that she was who we were hoping she wasn't." Dean explained, gesturing with one hand. "That way if she wasn't who we thought she might be, she could just be who we were hoping she would be."

Castiel stared at him for a moment. "I'm not sure I follow. Have you or have you not told her about yourselves and her destiny?"

"We wanted to make sure. Before we told her anything more." Sam offered. "Then maybe... ease her into it."

"Ease me into what?" Snapped the girl. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here. What's going on. What are you talking about?!" She took a step back. "Who are you, really?"

Sam was slightly hunched, one hand extended away from his body as if to reach out to her in the most non-threatening way he could manage. "Okay, okay, just... hear us out."

"We are here to help you fulfill your destiny, as foretold by God." The serious sounding man replied, looking about. "This place is not warded. Demons or angels could find us at any minute." Castiel noted. "It would be best if we took her to the bunker."

"Cas, shut up!" Dean snapped, waving one hand at him aggressively.

"Oh my god. Oh my god." She gushed, backing away into the bedroom.

She tried to slam the door but Sam jumped in the way and caught it before it hit the frame. So she staggered backwards, around the end of the bed, towards the closet, back tracking away from him as quick as she could.

"Get away from me!" She shouted, throwing the lamp, then the picture frame at him.

Sam kept his arms up, easily deflecting the objects. Dean followed him into the room, hands up as if to show he had no weapons either.

"Take it easy! Just calm down!" He called.

"We're not here to hurt you." Sam said gently.

She reached her arm into the closet, and yanked out something heavy and metal, brandishing it before her. "Stay back!"

Dean looked surprised. "You have a sword?" He looked over at Sam and smiled. "Who has a sword?"

Castiel stood in the doorway. "I have a sword."

"Both of you, shut up!" Sam snapped, turning back to the girl. "Look I'm sorry, we didn't want to tell you like this. But I swear, we aren't crazy."

"And we aren't here to hurt you, so put down Excalibur, lady." Dean added.

"Get out of my apartment!" The girl yelled. Still holding the sword with one hand, she reached into her pocket to grab her phone. In the other room, the dog barked and whined.

"Wait! Wait, please!" Sam tried desperately. He took a step towards her but she jabbed the sword forward clumsily.

"Stay back!" She snapped. "I'm calling the police!"

In a quick fluid motion, Sam darted forward, grabbing her sword hand and twisting it slightly. She cried out in surprise and dropped the weapon. As soon as she did Sam started trying to grab at her other hand which held the phone. She struggled, kicking at him, twisting and pulling, trying to get away.

Dean jumped over, grabbing her over flailing arm and prying the phone from her fingers. "Hey hey hey HEY!" He said quickly. "Calm down. I promise you're not in any danger."

"Not from us, at least." Castiel pointed out.

"Let me go!" She shouted, and Sam released her putting his hands up and kicking the sword away.

Dean poked his head into the closet, checking to see if there were any more weapons. The girl side skirted along the wall away from the brothers. But with Castiel in the doorway, she could only stand next to the window with her back against the wall.

"What do you want from me?" She asked shakily. "I don't have any money, and nothing here is really that valuable. But take whatever you want. Please, just don't hurt me."

"We're not going to hurt you." Sam reiterated hands up. "We're here to help you, I swear."

"Then let me call the cops." She said. "If you aren't the bad guys, why can't I call 911."

"Because they won't be any help with what's after you." Dean growled, glaring at the girl. "Calling them here would just get more innocent people hurt."

"Oh god, oh god" She murmured softly to herself. "Please... just let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone about you guys. Please!"

A guilty expression played across Sam's features. "I'm sorry. We can't." He said softly. She had to stifle a sad little gasp. "It's not safe."

"Trust me, being with us is the best thing you can do right now." Dean stated, nodding assuredly.

"We have to go."

The trio looked over at Castiel, who was looking up at the ceiling as if seeing beyond it. "Cas?" Dean implored.

The angel's gaze dropped down to his. "They are coming."

"Who?" Alexandra asked in a breaking voice.

"Damn it." barked Dean. He reached out to grab her. "We'll explain later. Right now we just have to get you somewhere safe."

"No!" She jerked back. "Don't touch me!"

"We don't have time for this!" Castiel insisted, looking back and forth between the brothers imploringly.

Sam reached out to the girl. "Look, hey, hey!" He waited until her eyes met his, pained by the frantic, fearful look he saw reflected there. "I know this is all... scary. And crazy. Believe me, I know how it sounds." He stepped closer, hands up, as unthreatening as possible. "But you have to trust us. Just for right now. Okay? And then once we are someplace safe, and we explain what's going on, you can make your own decision and do whatever you want. I promise. Please." His wide brown eyes pleaded for her to believe him.

Her eyes darted between him and the other two, then back again. She stared at his face for a few terrifying moments, then nodded shakily.

"Okay. Okay good." Sam said softly, a small relieved smile cross his face. "Baby steps, ok? We're gonna go down to our car. Alright?" He took a step closer, reaching out slowly. "And we're going to drive away from here. And we'll explain everything in the car." He reached out one hand as if to touch her arm, but stopped short, careful to keep eye contact. "Can we do that?"

She stared up at him, her mouth slightly ajar, her hands shaking. But then she nodded slowly.

"Good." He said gently. "Let's go. Stay close."

She nodded again and stepped away from the wall, eyeing Dean nervously as she walked over to him, stopping a few paces away. Sam stood at her shoulder and nodded to his brother.

"Alright." Dean said, turning to lead the way out of the room. "Let's go."

Castiel stepped aside for the three of them to leave the room, his eyes fixed on the young girl between the brothers. Her sky blue eyes darted away nervously under his scrutiny.

Suddenly there was a rush of feathers, and Alexandra gasped in shock. In the blink of an eye the tiny living room suddenly had three men standing there in black suits. Each one had a silver, needle like sword in hand, and a menacing look on their face.

"Shit!" Dean cursed under his breath, extending one hand out to shield the girl with his body and drawing his own knife from his belt.

"How-...where the hell did they come from!?" Alexandra cried, taking a step back. They had just appeared out of thin air. Her back brushed against Sam's front and she jumped a bit, glancing back at him. He put a steadying hand on her shoulder, jaw tight.

"Brothers." Said Castiel, stepping forward. "Please, stand down."

"We are not your brothers, Castiel." Said one man, the most forward of the three. "And we can not stand down and let this abomination live."

Gronk growled and barked, leaping at the nearest angel. Without hesitation, the man snapped his fingers, and suddenly the dog disappeared.

"GRONK!" Alexandra screamed. She lunged forward but Sam caught her, holding her back. Tears filled the corners of her eyes.

"Stay back!" Dean ordered her, clenching his teeth.

"What are you going to do?" Castiel quizzed the men, brow furrowing.

"She must be exterminated." The angel replied, and his companions readied their fighting stances. "There is only one God, and Heaven will not stand by while some human whore tries to replicate him."

The girl drew in a sharp breath. "What the hell is he talking about?" She asked Sam, her voice breaking, glancing back at him again.

He didn't answer, but drew his gun and stepped in front of her, pointing it at the angels.

"She's just a girl." Dean snapped. "She didn't choose this fate."

"Her only fate is to die, here and now, and let that false prophecy die with her." The angel proclaimed.

"We will not allow you to harm her." Said Castiel, dropping his own sword from his sleeve into his hand.

The angel smirked, and swept his hand to the side. Dean was suddenly lifted up and sent flying into the opposite wall. Alexandra shrieked, but before Sam could even move to help his brother he was sent flying too with another wave of the man's hand. The other two men leaped at Castiel, pinning him against the wall.

As they struggled, the first blinked out in a rush of wings, then reappeared, to her shock and horror, right in front of the girl. Before she could even gasp his hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground.

"I'd rather die than see the bastard child of a human rule over Heaven." He growled, his face inches from her's as she choked and sputtered. He drew back his arm, poising his sword towards her heart.

Suddenly with a sound like lightening, his mouth and eyes jerked open wide and bright white light poured from them, his expression one of pain and horror. His death loosened his grip on her throat and she fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for air.

Dean tossed the angel's body aside, drawing out the demon knife from the mortal wound and grabbed his angel sword. "Sam, catch!" He called out as he threw it.

In one lithe movement, the taller Winchester caught the sword, spun, and plunged it into the heart of the angel he had just pulled off of Castiel. A moment later, Castiel bested the third angel, stabbing his own sword in beneath his ribcage and up to his heart.

As the body slumped to the floor, Alexandra clawed her way up the wall into a standing position, leaning heavily against it for support.

"You good?" Dean asked her, looking her up and down quickly.

"What the FUCK just happened?" She shouted, staring at the body crumpled at her feet in horror.

"No time to explain now. Come on!" Dean stated curtly, placing one arm about her shoulder and dashing out of the apartment.

The four of them darted down the stairs, not bothering to close the door behind them. Dean passed Alexandra to Sam, who wrapped one arm about her protectively as his brother looked about and grabbed the keys from his pocket.

"Move move move!" He snapped, opening the back door for the two. Sam helped her slide in then slid in behind her, Cas jumped into the passenger seat as Dean slammed the back door and climbed into the driver's side. The engine roared to life and Dean smashed the pedal to the floor, rocketing them out of there.

"What the FUCK is going on?!" the girl shouted from the back seat as they booked it down the road. "Who were those guys? Are they—Are they dead? What did they want?" She spun her head to look over her shoulder out the back window. "What did they do to my dog?"

"It appears they simply sent him someplace else. He's likely perfectly fine." Castiel replied calmly from the front seat.

"What? Seriously... WHAT?"

"Here's the short version." Dean began curtly. "Alex, can I call you Alex? Those asshats were angels, and they were there to kill you, so yeah, they'd better be dead. Me and Sam? We're brothers, and we're hunters. And not the like Elmer Fudge, but the monster killing kind. Now _you_ are the hot commodity that angels, demons, and probably some monsters and good old fashioned dicks are after to either kill or capture. And we are here to make sure that doesn't happen." He glanced at her in the rear view mirror. "So just imagine that every horror story you've ever heard or seen is real, and its all coming after you."

She was shocked into silence, staring slack jawed out the back window, watching her apartment complex becoming smaller and smaller.

"Real nice Dean." Sam scolded.

"She's gotta know the truth, Sam." He replied, shaking his head.

Sam sighed, and looked over at the girl. "I'm sorry. That was..." He gave a sad chuckle. "That was a rough way to come into the life."

"Into the life?" She echoed softly. "What does that even mean?"

Sam gave a small shrug. "Into this life. Knowing about monsters and demons and angels. Knowing that they are real." He looked at her sympathetically. "It can be hard to.. understand. To accept."

She turned, looking at him with her piercing blue eyes. "But why?"

Sam stiffened at the question. "Why what?"

She searched his face. "Why are they after me? Why now?"

There was silence in the car for a moment, with nothing but the purr of the engine and the whoosh of the world going by to fill it.

"Well, short version?" Dean said finally, chuckling.

"It's because... of a prophecy." Sam took over. He paused as he searched for the right words. "Uh, you see, God decided to, well, go off into the universe. And His sister is dead now. And apparently our world can't really exist without some entity like the one that made it..."

"So God is real too." She breathed, leaning back against the seat. "And He's left the building. And He had... a sister..." She looked over at Sam. "Oookayy, let's just pretend that's all true. What's that got to do with me?"

Sam cleared his throat nervously. "Well, before He... left, He left a prophecy. Sort of like... a farewell note... I guess."

"He was kind of a dick." Dean chimed in from the front, smirking. But he glanced over at the hard scowl on Castiel's face aimed at him and swept off his grin. "Sorry Cas."

"Did you know Him?" She asked the trench coated man in the passenger seat.

"In a way." He replied. "Being that I am an Angel of the Lord, He was my father. But until very recently, I had never met him."

"Wait, you're an angel? Like, the same as those guys?" She sputtered. "Oh god, that's why you called them Brothers... But..." She looked at him, then over at Sam, the question lingering unspoken on her lips.

"Cas is on our side now." Sam reassured her. "He's... uh... it's complicated. But you can trust him."

"He's our friend." Dean added, and Sam nodded. For his part, Castiel stared out the window, seemingly both proud and ashamed.

Alex was silent for a moment, looking out the window. Trying to wrap her head around everything.

"But... you still haven't explained why the angels wanted me dead. I didn't do anything." She looked over at Sam. "Did I?"

"No, no. You haven't done anything." He assured her.

"It's what you are going to do." Intoned Castiel from the front seat.

"What?" She blurted, eyes wide.

"In the prophecy that God left behind, He mentioned that the universe needs a Light, akin to His, in order to continue to exist as it is. He also stated it was beyond His power to create such a Light from scratch, as He did all other things." Castiel divulged. "The prophecy states that in the instance that God should perish or, as He has chosen to do, leave the universe, a new Light will be born from the child of His creation. But this Light can not begin to exist until Darkness has been purged from the world. Nor would it be true Light as He is or Darkness as His sister was. It would be an entirely new, powerful force, born into this world and destined to rule it."

When he paused, Alex looked about, waiting for someone to keep speaking. "And what does that have to do with any of this? With me?" She prompted. "Still waiting on the punch line here."

The silence lingered a few moments longer. She looked over at Sam, begging with her eyes. He sighed deeply.

"Since God couldn't create His replacement, He left the means for it to create itself. And the most powerful thing God created was the soul." Sam began, picking his way carefully. "And souls, they kind of... make themselves now. After the first few, they took on a mind of their own. But He hard wired into their makeup the potential for one massively powerful and unique soul."

"One and only one." Castiel added. "Through all of creation, from the beginning of time to the end, there would be only one soul like this."

"And it was the birth of the potential for that soul that set all other things into motion." Sam continued. "The apocalypse, for starters, and all other things that followed."

"Apocalypse?" She echoed. "What apocalypse?"

Dean chuckled. "You're welcome. Thanks to us that no one even knows it almost happened."

"Yeah, well, basically God knew that His chance to leave would come with the birth of this soul, and so He began preparations for it, set things into motion, like the apocalypse. He completely stepped back and watched His creation prepare itself."

"Prepare itself for what?" She asked. "And you still haven't said what any of this has to do with me." She glanced over at Castiel. "Does it have anything to do with what he said when he first saw me? About... about my soul..." She dropped off, realization clicking in her head.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. The soul in the prophecy? The one soul that will never exist ever again and has never existed ever before? We think... well, we're pretty sure that... its... yours."

"...You're kidding, right?" She retorted. He shook his head. "You can't be serious. What? I mean, seriously, WHAT?" She stuttered for a moment before finding her words again. "I-I'm nothing special! I don't have any crazy powers or anything, an-and my life has been super normal. The only thing AB-normal about it is how NORMAL it is!" She fell back against the seat. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"This is not a humorous matter." Castiel replied. "But your unremarkable life thus far has little to do with your destiny."

"My, my destiny?" She repeated. "Jesus Christ, what is- wait, I'm not going to be like Jesus Christ or anything, am I?"

"No, your destiny is much greater than his." Castiel stated simply.

"What is it? Did the prophecy say?" She demanded, when Sam opened his mouth to answer, she held up her hand. "Wait, do I even want to know? Does it change if I know about it?"

Sam gave a small, crooked smile. "It shouldn't affect it, and yeah, I think you'll want to know."

"It's a pretty juicy gossip piece." Dean inserted with a nonchalant tilt of his head.

"So...what is it?" Alex asked hesitantly.

Sam cleared his throat a few times. "Well, you, are... ah you see, you're ...-what I'm trying to-to say is that, umm."

"Your destiny is to be the mother of the next God." Castiel announced.

Her jaw dropped to the floor. "...are you...are you fucking kidding me?"

Castiel looked over his shoulder at her. "As I've stated, I do not intend to make light of this matter. It is deadly serious, and incredibly important." He insisted. "Your soul is extremely unique and powerful in that it is strong enough to bring into life an entity that will equal that of the original creator, perhaps even exceed it."

"Which is why every demon, angel, and other entity _currently_ in existence is after you." Dean concluded. "And that's why we had to get to you first, to keep you safe."

"WaitwaitwaitwaitWAIT." Alexandra protested. "Are you telling me that I'm about to Virgin Mary a fucking GOD? WHEN? What? And perhaps, more importantly, How the fuck am I supposed to give birth to a goddamn God?" She fell back against her seat, shaking her head vehemently. "This can't be real."

"I believe your ability to pull a 'Virgin Mary' as you call it would be impeded by the fact that you are not a virgin." The angel stated simply.

Dean and Sam both shot him incredulous looks. "CAS!" They both shouted at the same time.

Alex smacked her lips together. "Well, that was a lovely, fun, and incredibly personal announcement to share with the world. Thanks for that." She patted his shoulder as she spoke, each word dripping with sarcasm. "But what I mean is, am I going to see some dove flying overhead and suddenly be pregnant? Am... Am I pregnant already?"

"Oh, ah... no." Castiel half-mumbled, embarrassed. "You are not currently pregnant. And the child will not be born from immaculate conception. There must be a father."

"Oh ok. That's fun to know. Great. Who's that going to be?" She asked snidely.

"Has to be an angel or a demon." Dean stated.

"Actually Dean, that information is no longer correct." Castiel commented.

Dean looked over at him, surprised. "What?"

"Further translation of the prophecy finds that the father can be anyone, be they human, angel, or demon, and that each type of parent will produce an equally unique type of offspring." Castiel explained.

"So, do I HAVE to have a God-child, or can I like, shut it off? Get married and have a normal life? Or just have some normal kids? Would all my children be Gods? Or just one of them? And then, which one?" She gave an exasperated yelp and rubbed at her temples with both hands. "Oh my god I've lost my mind. I actually believe you crazy people, I actually believe that I am supposed to give birth to a god. I'm insane. I'm probably talking to myself in a padded room right now!"

"The specifics aren't very clear," Castiel continued, ignoring her profession of insanity. "But it seems that your first child would be the God-child. Any after that are not addressed in the writing. And no," He looked back at her "As of what we've read so far, this will happen, whether you want it to or not."

"What if she like, swore off men and became a nun?" Asked Dean with another smirk. "I mean, no bang, no baby, right?"

Castiel shook his head. "From my understanding, once God leaves the universe, as he has done, she will be destined to bear the child soon after. With a few years. And should she avoid men, as you suggest, the power of her soul shall leak out into the world like a beacon, and all potential mates shall see her as absolutely irresistible. Whether it be by her choice or not, some man will become the father."

"...So basically your saying even if I become a hermit living alone in the middle of nowhere to avoid bearing a God-child, men will just instinctively flock to me and try to fuck me." She reiterated. "Does that sound about right?"

"...Not just men... Angels and demons too..." He muttered softly.

She closed her eyes, leaning it back against the seat and putting her hands on her forehead. "No way this is happening. No way."

"It does sound pretty crazy," Sam agreed. "Even for us."

"Yeah, and we hear and see crazy stuff all the time." Dean cracked.

"...So, what am I supposed to do?" She asked them, looking around. "Am I supposed to hold some sort of contest to find the best father? Or do I just hope I can fall in love with a guy? And then what, I'm on the run from everyone who didn't get picked for nine months? And will I even have a baby or just some great big flash of light that becomes God?" She paused, a thought occurring to her, and shuffled a bit to the side away from Sam. "... You guys... didn't want to get to me first because... you want to be the father... right?"

"What? No, no, I mean-y-yeah you're pretty hot but the dad thing isn't really my-my, uh,...You aren't really, ah-no-no nono, nope. No." Dean stammered.

"N-n-no, I, we weren't I wasn't implying or trying-We just wanted to help and I-I ah, you and uh-" Sam babbled at the same time.

As their protests fizzled out, Castiel looked over his shoulder at her. "I'm not entirely sure I understand the mechanics and process of fatherhood. Perhaps after some research I can give you a more definitive answer."

"CAS!" Dean and Sam shouted at him again, looking at him in horror.

He looked surprised. "It would be a great honor to be father to the next God. Although I do not feel I am fit to the task, I believe it officially falls to the mother to pick who is truly worthy." He looked over at her. "Nor would I question her judgement."

After an extended moment of awkward silence, Alex smiled. Then she began to laugh, the sound bubbling forth from the pit of her stomach and filling the whole car. The sound made all three of the others smile, and Sam even laughed a bit too.

"I'm not sure which answer I like better." She said finally, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. She sighed deeply. "Alright then. So crazy train it is." She looked out the window. "So what's the next step? Where are we going?"

"Next step is to get you somewhere safe while we figure out our next step." Replied Dean.

"We have a bunker, a safe house." Sam explained. "It's warded against angels and demons. No one knows were it is, and even if they did its practically impenetrable by them."

"Okay..." She said slowly, followed by another sigh. "Sounds like a start."

"Yeah, and who knows." Dean added. "Maybe we can find a way to halt your destiny in its tracks, so there doesn't have to be a God-child."

"Really? She asked hopefully.

He shrugged. "We've done more impossible things than that."

She smiled. "Wicked. Let's get started then."

"Question though," Dean added, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah?"

"Why the hell did you have a sword?"

She laughed again and told her story about a renaissance fair a few years back as the Impala sped down the highway towards the Men of Letters bunker.


	3. Gas 'n Sip

**Chapter 2**  
SPOILER ALERT! The second part of my Supernatural fanfiction. This follows after season 11, and assumes a few things about the end. So there may be some spoilers if you haven't watched all the episodes up to then, even the ones airing more recently. Go Back and read the first part if you want to learn how Alexandra Hart (my OC) met Sam, Dean, and Castiel. All characters/concepts (c) to their respective owners. Storyline/plot and new characters/writing (c) FrostSinth. Do not use or repost without my permission.

 **-**

"How you feeling?" Sam asked her as she stepped out of the car at the Gas 'n Sip station.

She gave a small smile. "Honestly? Trying not to freak out." She looked up at him. "Still not sure I buy this whole 'mother of God' story you boys are rolling with, but there's probably easier ways to abduct a girl."

Sam laughed softly. "Yeah, its kind of nuts."

"But you're just rolling with it too." She pointed out. "Is this kinda a common thing with you guys?"

"Mother of God stuff? No." He replied, putting his hands in his pant's pockets and leaning his shoulder against the Impala. "But life changing, end of the world we know, everything and everyone after us? Yeah. Kind of." He shrugged, bemused. "After the third time or so, it just seems easier to accept what I previously thought was impossible."

She nodded quietly, looking about the filthy little station miles away from anywhere. They had been driving all morning, she wasn't even sure what state they were in, let alone city or town. The car ride thus far had been filled with sighs and poor attempts at getting some shut eye. She had never been great at sleeping in cars. The others hadn't really said much either. Everyone had just been lost in their own thoughts. And though she could've asked more questions, she really could barely wrap her head around what she already knew. She wasn't ready for more.

"I'm just..." Another sigh. "Like, what am I supposed to do with this information?" She asked, half laughing. "The world is out to fuck me. Literally."

Sam laughed with her, and she couldn't help but notice how nice that smile looked on his face rather than the forlorn, sad eyes he usually wore. "I guess you just take it one step at a time. Try to make the right choices."

"Do the best I can." She agreed. She let out another heaving sigh, reaching up and pulling out the tie holding up her hair. It tumbled about her shoulders and she ran her fingers through it thoughtfully. "What about my family?" She asked, looking back up at Sam, who was more than a head taller than her. "What about my job? My dog? My apartment, my bills?" she dropped her hand to her side exasperatedly. "My whole life. Is it just on hold? Or do I never get it back?"

He didn't answer for a second, looking out to the little convenience store where Dean and Castiel had gone to get them some lunch. His lips tightened, and she already missed the smile that had been there just moments before.

"Your family... they should be fine." He remarked. "It's not like they can make another you. You're the only one. And no one knew even your name before we found you. It'll take them some time to track them down."

"Should I call them? Warn them? Let them know I'm disappearing for a while?" She wondered aloud. "I don't want to make my mom worry."

Sam shrugged. "That's really up to you. But I think the less contact you have with them, the better for their sake." He smiled again. "I think you're going to lose your job though. No avoiding that. Not unless you manage to get back someday and can prove you were kidnapped."

She laughed at the thought. "Well, I think the dead bodies in my apartment might lend some credence to that. But I never liked that job much anyways."

"No? Working with kids not your calling?" Sam tried to sound nonchalant about it, as if he were just casually bringing up the idea.

She smiled, seeing right through it. "You mean am I natural mother material?" She asked.

He gave a small smile, eyes dropping to his boots briefly as he shuffled them. "Yeah, I guess I wasn't as subtle about that as I tried to be."

Alexandra shrugged one shoulder. "It's ok. It wasn't the kids I didn't like. Just the administration, and the hours. And the pay sucked." Her lips split into another smile. "I've always liked kids, especially little kids. And they always seemed to like me. Even the tough ones, or the shy ones. Or the ones scared of new people." She glanced up at him. "Guess now I know why."

Sam nodded thoughtfully, exhaling deeply. "The ultimate mom."

"Most moms are the ultimate mom." She noted. "My mom is great. She's a wonderful role model, she loves me to death and I know she'd do anything for me." She looked over at him. "What about yours?"

"Didn't have one growing up." He admitted. "She died when I was a baby."

"I'm sorry..."

"No, it's ok." He reassured her. "I actually met her later in life, or at least her ghost. And then her younger self. And she was an amazing woman." Alex stared at him, eyes wide. He chuckled. "Yeah, my life's pretty weird."

"Sounds it." She replied, shaking her head.

"I've got a question though, if you don't mind me asking." Sam started, crossing his arms and turning to lean his back against the car like she was.

"Shoot."

"You obviously admire your mom. And you're worried about her, and your family-" He began.

"So why did I move so far from them in the first place?" She finished for him. He nodded. She lifted and dropped her shoulders. "I... I don't really know. I felt like, ...well, I have some friends down here, and I thought it was an opportunity to get out from under my family. Live my own life. Try to figure out who I was away from them."

Sam nodded along. "I did the same thing when I went away to college."

"You went to college? What did you study?" She asked curiously.

"Pre-law, actually. At Stanford."

"No way!" She grinned. "That's wicked cool."

"You went to school too, right?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, back in Massachusetts."

"What did you study?"

"Psychology."

He smiled "Whoah. I better watch out." he teased.

She laughed, kicking one foot at the dirt. "Yeah, I loved it. Always figured I'd go back to school, get my Masters. Maybe even my Ph.D." Her expression dropped, becoming forlorn and drawn. "But now..."

Sam didn't say anything for a second, watching her, chewing over what he _could_ say. "Well, it's not entirely impossible now. You could go to school online. Or take classes here and there." He pointed out.

"Yeah, when I'm not busy raising a God-child." She chuckled. "I can see the headline now. Single Mom Raises Next Ultimate Deity While Taking College Courses." She dug her toe deeper into the dirt. "I'd be the poster girl for continuing education."

"We still have time." Sam encouraged. "We might find a way to cancel out your so-called 'destiny'. Or maybe we'll at least find a way to put it off for another decade or more. Hey," He reached out, bumping his fist lightly against her shoulder "Don't give up just yet."

She offered him a small smile. "Thanks."

He returned the look. "No problem."

"Alright kiddos!" Came a voice, and Dean strode back over to the car, laden with bags. "Lunch time. Gotta get your three square-ish meals a day." He grinned as he dropped the bags on the hood of the car.

Castiel followed a few paces behind him, holding a few bags as well. He copied Dean, placing the bags on hood. Dean began unpacking sandwiches, chips, pretzels, waters, sodas, candies, and assorted other goodies and snacks.

"Wow, what did you buy the whole store?" Sam cracked, looking over the food.

"Pretty damn much!" Dean beamed. "Wasn't sure what the girl liked. So I got a bit of everything. As well as a toothbrush, some soaps and shampoos, other toiletries for her. And best of all," He picked up a little plastic container, grinning like a sugar high child as he showed it off. "Pie."

Alex couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "You didn't have to get all this for me."

"Not a problem, blondie." He replied, tossing a water bottle her way. "When life gets you down, crappy gas station food makes you feel sick to your stomach so you can think about that instead for a bit."

She laughed, stepping over to look at all the different things spread across the hood. Castiel walked around Sam and Dean who were picking over the food items themselves, until he stood before the girl. She looked at him curiously.

Looking down at a small plastic chip bag he held gingerly in his hands, he appeared almost bashful. "I uh," he started, then cleared his throat. "I used to really enjoy these, when I was a human." He held out the pork rinds to her. "Thought maybe you might as well."

"You were human?" She asked, surprised.

He nodded. "Briefly. When my grace was stolen for a spell to make the angels fall from heaven. I worked at a Gas 'n Sip like this actually." He looked down at the pork rinds. "But I got my grace back, so... food doesn't quite taste the same anymore."

She looked at him, nodding slowly. "Riiight... well, thanks!" She took the bag from him. "I've actually never tried these before."

"Oh, I think you're in for a treat then." He said with a small grin.

She smiled back at him. "I'm excited to try them." She noticed the boys watching from behind Castiel, grinning like idiots.

She looked down at the bag to hide her own grin and slowly pulled it open. Carefully taking out one rind, she sniffed it, well aware of the eager eyes of the angel watching her. Even if it was awful, she'd have to pretend to like it, to save his feelings. She opened her mouth and bit into the snack. The flavor rolled across her tongue and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh wow! These are good!" She said, half covering her full mouth as she spoke.

Castiel nodded knowingly. "Yes, they are unexpectedly delightful." He said, rocking forward onto his toes as he spoke. She helped herself to another, then held out the open bag to him, but he raised his hands and shook his head. "No thank you. I don't have a need to eat anymore, and the taste just isn't what it used to be."

"Well, thank you, Mister Castiel. It was very thoughtful of you to get these for me." She complimented, smiling.

He shuffled his feet, still smiling but not quite looking into her eyes. "Just Castiel is fine, ma'am. If you'd like." He bobbed his head. "Really, it's just an honor to be able to know you, let alone be able to share the experience of pork rinds with you."

She couldn't help but laugh again. "Alright then, Castiel. But you don't have to call me ma'am or anything either. Just call me Alexandra. Or Alex." She smiled at the boys behind him. "Actually, most of my friends back home called me Hart."

"Well, that's probably because you'd stolen a few hearts of their's." Dean said with a wink.

"Wow, corny much?" Sam scoffed, but Alexandra laughed.

"See, she likes it." He chided, pointing one finger at his brother while the rest were cupped around a meat packed sandwich. "Pretty girls get my humor, Sammy. Though you grow your hair out anymore and you just might start to see why I'm so irresistible."

"Let's just let her enjoy her lunch without activating her gag reflex, hmm?" Sam reached out and grabbed a sandwich from the pile. "Ham or turkey?" He asked her.

"Turkey please. Or any one without lettuce or tomato? Just cheese."

Dean shook his finger at her, flinging bits of cold cut about. "A girl after my own, dare I say it," He paused for effect, "Hart." His grin nearly dropped the chunk of food in his cheek out of his mouth it was so wide. He laughed at his own joke and popped open a beer.

"I'm sure she's more disgusted than impressed with the old man hitting on her and spraying her with food." Sam shot back, flicking a bit of cold cut that had landed on his coat at his brother. Dean just grinned and chuckled.

"Can I have a beer?" She asked.

Dean smacked his hand against his thigh. "Look at that! How great is this chick! Willing to drink just after noon. She'll fit right in." He grabbed one of the bottles from the pack and started to extend it out to her. Then he hesitated, retracting a bit from her outstretched hand. "Wait, how old are you again?"

Alex rolled her eyes and put one fist on her cocked hip. "I'll 25 next month, smart ass. Besides, if finding out you're destined to mother the next God isn't a reason to drink, what is?" She declared, and snatched the beer from him. She used the edge of the building they were parked next to to knock the cap off the bottle.

"Ho ho oh really? 25?" Smirked Dean, half sitting on the car and leaning towards her. He raised his eyebrows, gave his most charming grin (through a mouth still filled with half-chewed food) and winked at her. She smiled and rolled her eyes again.

"In case you were wondering, he just turned 37." Sam pointed out.

That knocked Dean down a few notches and he cleared his throat, shifting on the hood. "Well, yeah, but if you take that year I was in purgatory, and the six months or so in hell, I'm basically like, 35. Or so..."

"You were in purgatory?" Alex inquired, eyebrows raised. "And hell?"

Dean shrugged, taking another swing of his beer. "Eh, no biggie. Sam's been to hell too. So has Castiel."

She looked back and forth to the trio. "Is it a common thing to go to hell?" She asked, perplexed.

"It's not a good thing." Sam mused, grabbing a beer for himself.

"I've lost count of the number of times I've died." Dean noted.

"You've DIED before? Multiple times?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, our lives are kinda fucked up."

Alex turned to Castiel. "How about you? Are you technically dead or alive?"

"Oh, I'm very alive." The angel assured her. "It's a life force very different from your human one. But it is life." He paused looking off into the distance. "Though I too have died a few times."

"Jesus Christ." She breathed.

"He only died once." Castiel pointed out. "And then when he came back, it was only for a few days."

Hart blinked at the statement. "Riight,... So there's a Hell. And there's a Heaven?" She posed.

"Yeah, they're both real. Been to both." Sam replied, then cocked his head to one side. "Heaven's better. If you're dead."

"And if there's a God, then, is there a devil?"

"Yup." Dean pointed at her with his bottle. "Lucifer. Used to be an archangel, fell from heaven, father of all evil, yada yada. Powered down by God after he helped defeat the Darkness." He took a sip of his beer. "We've met him. Kicked his ass," He boasted.

"So is there still a hell? Even without the devil?"

Sam nodded. "Yup. There's a new King down there. He and Dean are 'besties'." he said the word 'besties' with a strong English accent.

Alex frowned. "You're... friends with the King of Hell?"

Dean pointed to Castiel. "We also hang out with an angel."

"... Wow..." she breathed.

"See? Our lives are messed up." Sam chuckled.

She stood quietly for a moment, chewing on pork rinds as she wrapped her head around their life stories. She took a sip of her beer, then looked up at them. "Am I going to die?"

That rocked them all back on their heels. Dean coughed and sputtered, almost choking on his sandwich.

"Why would you ask something like that?" He growled.

"Well, I don't know. You've all died a couple of times. And you've saved the world a few times. I feel like I have some catching up to do. And who knows if I'm supposed to survive after... you know... delivery..." She smiled, then shrugged. "Though I guess I'm not really in the same boat as you guys."

"You wouldn't be in the same boat as us, seeing as we are all riding in a car." Castiel pointed out. "Which is a very ineffective method of travel."

"What I mean is, you guys are the heroes of the story. You guys save the day. I'm just... just a problem for you to solve or like, a person who needs to be saved." She mused. "I could even become the villain, couldn't I? If a demon or monster fathered the God-child?" She looked around at them for a long moment. "What... what would you do then?"

No one answered, but no one looked at her either. The silence was all the answer she needed. Dean crumbled up the wrapper to his sandwich and sniffed loudly, wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. "We'll cross that bridge when we burn it." He intoned. "No use worrying over milk that isn't even spilt yet." He smacked the hood of the car. "Let's pack up and get back on the road."

Everyone nodded, standing and putting their snacks in their respective seats.

"I've got to use the bathroom before we go." Alex stated, looking about.

"It's just around that corner." Dean said, pointing. "You're a big girl, so I'll let you go by yourself, but be quick or I'm coming after you with guns blazing." He warned with a grin.

She mirrored his expression and nodded, making her way over to the back of the station.

Wiping her still damp hands on her pants, she elbowed open the door and stepped out into the back lot behind the Gas 'n Sip.

"Hello love." Came a deep, course voice.

Startled, Alex looked up, finding a man standing by the dumpster. He wore a full black suit, complete with a black overcoat and dress shirt. Only his tie wasn't black, instead a deep blood-red. He was about her height, perhaps a few inches taller, with a thick scruff peppered with grey on his chin, upper lip, and cheeks. He looked so out of place standing beside the rusted, worn dumpster, that she had to blink a few times to be sure he was really there.

"Umm, hi?" She replied hesitantly, giving him a polite smile.

"Out for a drive?" He asked, eye brows raising slightly, the faintest of smiles playing across his lips.

Alex frowned, noticing the man's distinctive accent. British, most likely. "Uh, yeah. I guess." She nodded to him and turned to head back to the Impala. "Excuse me."

As she turned her back on him, she started as suddenly there he was, standing before her again. This time only a few feet separated the pair.

"Why not stay for a chat, hm?" He advised.

She couldn't help but glance over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't also still behind her. But the spot he had resided in beside the dumpster was vacant now. Her heart pounded loudly in her ribcage.

"So... not human..." She said softly, turning back to look at him. Slowly, she took a wary step back, and he raised his eyebrows again. The same small smile played across his lips, with a knowing look settling on his features. "And... not angel... I don't think..." She continued, taking another small step back. The entire air about this man was different than those men from before. He kept his piercing grey green eyes fixed on her blue. For each step backwards she took, he took a small step forward, hands in his pockets. "Then... demon?" She guessed.

His smile widened. "Ding ding ding." He said softly. "We have a winner." He cocked his head to the side coyly. "Ready for your prize?"

"You want to kill me too?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The back of the Gas 'n Sip was barely an arm's length away now. She was cornered, and her sky blue eyes darted nervously beyond his shoulder. Where was Dean? How long did he think it took a girl to pee?

The demon tsked at her softly. "Not in the least." He assured her in cool, smoky tones. "In fact, quite the opposite really."

She swallowed nervously. Her final step, and now her back was against the concrete store wall. "The opposite of kill is what... marry?" She concluded sarcastically, hoping she sounded more snarky than afraid.

He gave an airy chuckle and a smirk. "In a sense, perhaps." He consented, tones still borderline icy. He took one hand out of his pocket and studied the expensive looking watch on its wrist. "I'm assuming the Winchesters have explained the prophecy to you? Or at least your part in it?"

She watched his movements cautiously. "I got the gist of it."

His eyes flicked back up to her's, a fresh smirk settling upon his lips. "Well then, consider this my formal application for the vacant position." He closed the small distance between them with a single stride, causing her to stiffen fearfully. But he merely extended his hand. "Name's Crowley." He intoned. "King of Hell. At your service."

King of Hell? She echoed silently. The one Sam mentioned?

He waited silently, hand still extended. "Generally when someone offers a name its basic manners to give yours in return, love." He quipped after the silence stretched.

"Oh... It's... Alex..." She breathed, still mildly off put by his proximity. And knowing he was a demon.

"Just Alex?" He pressed.

She hesitated. "Hart... Alexandra Hart."

"A lovely name." He purred. His extended hand scooped up her's, turning it gently as he planted a soft kiss on the knuckles, his eyes never leaving her face.

"...Right...um, Thanks.." She pulled her hand back, cupping it in the opposite hand close to her chest. "So... application received, um, you'll hear back from us in three to five business days..." She side stepped along the wall, never letting him out of her sight. "But I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today."

He seemed amused by her answer, replacing his hands in his pockets. "Would you like a list of credentials?" He asked coyly. "Perhaps some references?" He followed her movements as she edged her way in a circle around him, careful not to turn her back on him. "I was lead to believe there would be a... _private_ interview session."

She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of their banter. Her expression must have changed, because his smile widened again. She took another few steps back, closer to freedom.

"Maybe another time." She breathed, taking a few more steps back.

He smirked again, acquiescing with a slight nod in her direction. "I think upon review you'll find me to be one _hell_ of a candidate."

She opened her mouth to respond when a sudden shout echoed from behind her followed by running footsteps.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her backwards none-too-gently, so forcefully that she almost lost her footing as Dean shoved his body between her and the King of Hell, gun first. Fortunately, she fell against Sam, who helped her right herself with one hand while the other pointed another gun straight at the demon. He too stepped around her, physically barring the path between her and Crowley. Castiel appeared at her shoulder, sword already in hand.

"Hey! Hands off!" Dean barked, his face fixed with a look so intense it seemed to smolder the air between them.

"Hello boys." Crowley greeted the pair. He glanced at Castiel. "Toto." he intoned with a nod in his direction. Castiel's serious expression deepened and he stepped closer to Alex almost reflexively.

"What the hell do you want, Crowley?" Sam half-growled, brow furrowed in distrust.

The demon raised his eyebrows quizzically. "I would have thought it was obvious." He replied. He drew in a short breath, raising his index finger as if coming to a realization. "Oh, but I forgot you have to spell things out for Moose. Seeing as he's a few watts short of a bulb." He tapped his index finger to his temple, the already familiar smirk settling on his lips again. Then he extended his arm slightly, pointing behind the boys. "I'm here for the girl, of course."

She felt her body stiffen at the gesture, her breath catching in her throat.

"Not happening." Dean replied sharply, pulling back the hammer on his gun.

Crowley shrugged. "Not really up to you, Squirrel." The demon pointed out. "Really, it's only fair that she knows all her options before she makes her final decision."

"Oh, and what, you're an option?" Dean snapped back.

He smiled. "I'm the best one, love." He turned and took a confident step to the side, ignoring the barrels that followed his every move. "You see, I can offer her more than anyone else." He continued. "I can offer her safety. Power. A title, if she wants." He stopped a few paces to their left, turning to face them once more. "All you can offer is a short life on the run that will end in a pine box." He opened his hands wide, eyes finding her's as he smiled. "I can offer her every wish and desire."

Alex swallowed nervously, but found herself unable to break his gaze. A part of her was intrigued; just what could he really offer her? She glanced at Dean, briefly wondering if this was how he treated all his friends. She shook the thoughts from her head. No deals with demons. That just sounded all around stupid.

"Better a life on the run with your freedom than a life of servitude to a demon." Sam shot back.

Crowley cocked his head to the side. "Is it though?" He asked. "And is it really freedom?" He smiled again. His gaze found her's, locking it in tight. "I believe you'll find my offer much more...satisfying."

"Counter offer." Dean growled, raising his gun to align his sights. "We pump your meat suit full of demon trap bullets and toss you in the dumpster with the rest of the trash."

The demon raised his hands. "Really, Dean, is that your answer for everything? Time to learn a new trick." He purred. "Do you really think you can keep her hidden forever?" He smirked. "I do hope you have a better plan than stashing her away in your little love-nest."

"Whatever we do is none of your business." Sam cut in. He took a step forward, gun still extended before him.

"What happens to Miss Hart IS my business. Because I'm making it my business." He replied simply, placing his hands back into his pockets. "I don't intend to let you boys fill her pretty little head up with sunshine and lollipops." He looked at her again, a wicked smile twisting his lips. "I have a few thoughts I'd like to fill you up with as well."

"We aren't getting anywhere with this pointless chatter." Chimed in Castiel.

"Good point." Growled Dean.

Suddenly he fired his gun, unloading his clip into Crowley. Or at least, in the spot where he had been standing only moments before. Lowering his gun, he swung left then swept right searching for the demon as his hands quickly unloaded the used clip and replaced it. Sam also swung his weapon about, eyes peeled for the missing King of Hell.

"Apparently you can't teach this old dog new tricks." Came his voice from directly beside Alexandra.

She spun, hand jumping up to her chest as she gasped quietly in surprise. Castiel was already moving forward, sword at the ready, and Sam pivoted on his heel, swinging his primed gun around. But Crowley was one step ahead of them. His hand shot out, grabbing Alexandra's arm and pulling her towards him.

"Ah ah ah." He exclaimed, spinning her around so her back was to him as he used her as a human shield. "Be careful now, Rambo." He snaked his arm about her waist, pulling her so close she could feel his breath on her bare shoulder. "Wouldn't want to poke holes in the Mother of God."

Alex's entire body stiffened, the hairs raising on the back of her neck. The smell of him surrounded her, a mixed aroma of scotch, smoke, and sulfur. She could feel his suit against her bare arms and back, and she swallowed nervously.

"Let her go, Crowley." Sam warned, taking a wary step closer. Dean aimed his freshly loaded pistol at the King of Hell's head.

"I don't think so." Replied the demon, and his voice gave her goosebumps as it fell upon her skin.

He tightened his grip around her waist, tugging her even closer. She had to stifle another small gasp as she grabbed at his arm, trying to pull it loose. She might as well have tried to pull a freight car.

"Say goodbye to the nice boys." He purred in her ear.

Her eyes widened, and she looked desperately at Castiel, Sam, and Dean. Words began to form on her lips; she saw the helpless looks on their faces. Crowley raised his free hand and snapped his fingers. Then they were gone...


	4. King of Hell

There was a brief moment of darkness that seemed to press and swirl about her as though it were alive. She felt as if she were falling, but in a dream, with no wind or sound, just the sinking feeling filling her body. Before she could even blink, the ground formed beneath her feet once more and she found herself standing in a stone room lit by wall sconces and a chandelier. She felt the demon's grip loosening and lunged away from him.

He didn't resist her withdrawal, and she staggered away, having exerted more force in her escape from his grasp than needed. As she gained her feet back under her, she spun, facing the King of Hell and backing away until she was pressed against the opposite wall. He watched her with an amused expression.

"Where are we?" She demanded, and was proud to hear that her voice didn't shake. "Why did you bring me here?"

Crowley tucked his hands back into his overcoat pockets. "We are in my mansion. A special room I had prepared just for you." He took a casual step closer, looking about the room as if appraising it. When his gaze settled back upon her, she felt her pulse quicken. "I hope you'll find it to your satisfaction."

She swallowed her nerves and balled her hands into fists. "Why did you bring me here?" She repeated firmly.

He considered her for a moment before speaking again. "I simply wanted a chance to talk," He lifted his shoulders innocently, tilting his head slightly. "That's all."

"We _were_ talking." She half-snarled. "Then you popped me here."

A slightly annoyed expression slid across his eyes. "Indeed, love." He agreed. "But with those pesky Winchesters there, pointing a gun at my head..." He dropped off, sighing dramatically. "Well, I could hardly get a word in edgewise, could I?" He took another step towards her. "And you can hardly form your own opinion of someone when someone else is spewing one-sided stories." He paused, drawing out one hand and stroking it along his chin. "So I brought you here. To talk."

"Fine. Here we are." She quipped. "So talk."

His lips stretched into a bemused smirk. "Bit cheeky, aren't you?" He purred. She scowled at him. Pushing a slight puff of air through his lips like a laugh, he gestured grandly with his hand. "You must have questions." He offered. "Ask me anything, and I'll tell you the whole truth. No lies. No softening the blow. No beating about the bush."

"I thought _you_ wanted to talk." She said dryly.

"It's a conversation, darling." He replied snidely. "Give and get."

She glared at him. "Why do you even want to talk?"

"Simple. Because I want you to choose me." He answered. "I want to be the father of the God-child, and coercing or tricking you into that decision would make my life more difficult than need be in the long run." He turned, walking over to a small cart laden with glass canteens filled various colored liquors in them. "My best option, therefore, is for you to like me. And choose me of your own free will."

Hart was shocked into silence for a few moments after that reply. He drew a stout glass from the cart, dropped in a few cubes of ice, then poured an amber colored liquor over the rocks until the glass was filled halfway. Replacing the stopper in the canteen, he turned back to face her, raising the glass to his lips.

"..." She opened and closed her mouth, unable to decide what to do with that information.

He watched her for another moment, taking a slow sip from his glass. "I see you are a bit baffled." He noted, tipping his glass and his chin towards her. "But as I told you," A small smile "the whole truth. No lies. No beating about."

"That can't be the whole truth." She managed finally.

"And why not?"

"Because that doesn't tell me why."

He took another sip of the scotch. "Why?" He echoed thoughtfully after a pause. "Because, love, the offspring you are destined to bring into the world, this "God-child", will be the most powerful thing since the original head-honcho himself." He tapped his glass. "Perhaps more so. And since I can't personally seize the power it'll wield for myself, I'll pick the next best option."

She almost laughed. "Being 'daddy' is the next best option?" She asked incredulously.

He took another sip as she spoke. "Absolutely." He replied. He pointedly gestured with one finger, taking slow strides as he spoke. "Imagine this incredibly powerful being, born to rule this world. No one stronger. No one who can even hope to match it." He paused, looking over at her. "Who do you think this being will listen to? Who will it ask for advice when it is uncertain or confused?" He straightened slightly. "Who do you think it'll do whatever's in its power to make happiest?"

"You think it'll listen to it's father?" She surmised.

"To it's parents." He corrected. "I don't intend to downplay the role of the mother in this saga." He nodded to her. "If you want a part in its life, I welcome you."

"Which is why..." she began, realization dawning on her.

"Which is why you need to choose me of your own free will." He finished. "Imagine what would happen if this beastie discovered his doting father had tricked his mother." He rolled his hand about in the air. "Or harmed, raped, tortured, or otherwise mutilated her." A small shrug of his shoulders. "I'm guessing it wouldn't go over so well. Besides," he added, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, "You are nearly as powerful as it will be, especially for the early years." He swirled the ice in his drink. "You'll be crucial in raising the little tyke. You'll be able to keep it in check."

She shook her head. "You're wrong. I'm not powerful." She gave a short laugh "Hell, I have trouble opening jars sometimes."

"Perhaps not yet you aren't." He replied. "Your power was locked away all these years. Hidden from even you." He turned to face her properly, eagerness filling his face. "But now..." He grinned "Now things have been set into motion. You'll have access to the power of your soul. The most powerful soul that ever has been or ever will be."

She was shaking her head again before he had even finished speaking. "No." She breathed. "No, I don't... I... I can't..."

"Aw love," Purred Crowley, stepping over to her. "I'm sure you're feeling... overwhelmed. Like you're in over your head." He extended his arm out and touched her shoulder lightly. "But you don't have to face it alone." When she didn't retract from his touch, he slid his hand against her skin, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She looked over at him, jaw tightening slightly. "You don't understand." She sighed, shaking her head again. "I'm not overwhelmed. I'm just not doing it."

He took a step closer, hand still on her shoulder. "Not doing what, love?"

"Any of it." She glared at him. "I'm not picking a..." She couldn't even form the words, and she shook her head again. "I'm not having a God, I'm not doing any of it."

He considered her quietly for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You don't have a choice." He said flatly, dropping his hand from her shoulder.

She stared at him, determination filling her eyes. "I do. I must." She looked down at her feet, biting her lip as she thought about it all. "If I am as powerful as everyone seems to think," She began "Then I must be powerful enough to change this bullshit destiny. There's got to be a way. Dean and Sam-"

"The Winchesters are hapless morons." Crowley interrupted firmly. "Whenever they go about trying to change fate or destiny, they end up nearly destroying the world in the process." He cupped his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to meet her gaze. "Everyone around them gets caught up in their wake, and all who get swept up end up dead. If they're lucky." His eyes were serious, firm. Filled with such intensity they almost burned. "The only people those boys care about is each other. When it comes down to brass tax –and it always comes down to it with them– they will _always_ choose each other over the entire world." He dropped his hand, but she continued to stare at him, searching his eyes. "No exceptions." he finished.

His gaze was so intense then that she let her eyes fall away, looking at the floor again. She wanted to argue with him. To challenge his words and prove that Sam and Dean would not abandon her for the sake of each other. But she had only known them a day. Not even a whole day. She had poured all her trust into them, hoping that they would do what was right for her, hoping they would help her... Crowley wasn't wrong though. Right now at least, the boys had no obligation to save her. They had no attachment or fondness for her. She was just another 'end of everything' scenario they had to solve. But what other choice did she have? Death by angel? The King of Hell? She looked up at him again as she thought. He was watching her quietly, as if she were a challenge to be solved, an opportunity to be extorted. He studied her like a man looking for answers to all _his_ problems. No. He wasn't what she needed either, she realized. She had to think for herself, because Crowley was out for himself, and the Winchesters were out for themselves.

She took a side step along the wall and brushed past him, still not speaking, determination filling her face and she strode into the center of the room. Once there, she stopped, looking around the chamber as if finally seeing it. A four poster bed sat along one wall, there was a large fireplace and a small table set with a fine tea set. A love-seat faced the fireplace, and one of the walls was lined with books, another with tapestries depicting intricate scenery. There were two doors, one half ajar beyond which she could see tile and porcelain. The other looked heavier and was bolted shut.

"What is it that you want, Alexandra?" She heard him croon behind her. The soft click of his shoes on the stone resounded about the room as he moved closer. "Tell me what I can give you to make you happy."

She half-turned, looking back at him. "I want my freedom." She said softly.

He didn't answer for a moment, swirling the ice in his glass. "And what is freedom to you?" He asked.

"I want to make my own choices. My own decisions." She stated. "If I can't go back to my old life, I want to go back to Sam and Dean. And Castiel."

A frown formed on his lips. "Haven't I made clear why that would be a very bad decision?"

She nodded. "I know if it comes down to them or me it will never be me." She replied. "But..." She met his gaze. "Is it really any different with you?" He didn't answer. "If you ask me what I want, that's what it is."

He tapped his glass irritatedly. "Wouldn't you rather something else?" He asked exasperatedly "Be Queen of Hell? Power? Wealth? Gorgeous Men?" He raised an eyebrow "Women?"

She laughed, a genuine smile stretching her lips. "I've never been much of one to pine over things I don't have." She mused. "I'm willing to work for what I want, and I _don't_ like being in anyone's debt."

He took another slow sip of his scotch, considering her. "And then what?" He asked.

She shrugged. "And then we see what happens next."

"What do I get in return, for bringing you back?" He inquired.

"You took me away in the first place!" She scoffed.

Crowley shrugged his shoulders. "Its to my advantage to keep you here. If we're being completely honest, I'd rather simply lock you away until you decide to love me."

Another laugh burst from her mouth at the ridiculousness of the notion. "Love you?! You really think that would work?"

Another shrug. "Worth a shot." He replied, pacing over to the cart and putting down his glass. He raised a mischievous gaze to her's. "Then again..." Suddenly, he disappeared, and she jumped as she felt his hand grab her shoulder from behind. He spun her around to face him and wrapped his arm about her waist, pulling her in close. "Perhaps I should just take what I want." He purred, burying his free hand in the hair at the base of her skull. "I'll have nine months after that to make you completely mine."

Her breath snagged in her throat and she struggled against his grip. Her hands pushed against his chest, but although he felt soft and human, she might as well have been pushing a brick wall. He smirked at her efforts, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at him.

"I am, after all, a demon." He murmured softly, his hot breath tickling her cheeks. "And King of Hell."

She forced down her nerves, balling her hands into fists against his chest and glaring back at him. "You'll do what you want now." She growled softly, threateningly. "And then, later on down the road, when I have all that power you were talking about," she spoke slowly, drawing out the words and steeling her gaze "I'll do what I want."

He considered her again, stroking his thumb along her jawline. His eyes traced her lips, his other hand tightened about her waist. Then he sighed, releasing her and stepping back. "Damn." He breathed. A cocky smile licked across his lips. "Perhaps I've told you too much." He put one hand back in his coat pocket. "You're a clever lass. I'll give you that." He paused, rubbing his hand through his beard. "I'll bring you back to the boys." He raised his finger. "On one condition."

"And that is?" She asked warily.

"I get to see you whenever I'd like." He replied. Then he titled his head to the side. "Within reason of course."

She let out a soft huff. "And how was I going to stop you?"

He smirked again. "You weren't. But now, you'll help. Keep those pesky hunter pals of yours and their pet angel off my back. Jump to my defense should the situation get dodgy again."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Still hoping I'll fall in love with you?"

He smiled. "Head over heels, darling."

A deep sigh fled her body, and she raised her hands defeatedly. "Fine. Ok." She agreed. "Take me back."

He extended his hand to her. "Come along then."

She hesitated, stepping back over to him warily. He smiled charmingly, and wiggled his fingers enticingly. Alex rolled her eyes, but gingerly placed her hand in his. As he wrapped his fingers about her's, he raised his eyebrows.

"Don't suppose I could convince you to put off the return trip for a few hours? Maybe even a day?" He posed, stepping in closer. "I like to make the boys sweat." She scowled at him. He sighed. "Ah well. Off we go then." And he snapped his fingers.

"Eight hours!" Snarled Dean, slamming the door to the Impala outside the bunker. "Eight god damn hours we had her before that jackass managed to swipe her from right under our noses!"

"We'll find her Dean," Sam encouraged, climbing out of the passenger side. "Crowley can't keep her hidden from us forever."

"He doesn't need forever. Just long enough to trick her into a deal." Castiel pointed out, blinking to stand beside Sam rather than opening the door to the car. "Or impregnate her. I believe it generally only takes a few minutes to-"

"Cas, shut up!" Snapped Dean. "I don't want to even think about what that perverted asshat might be doing to her."

"Had you allowed me to transport us here from the beginning," Castiel started "Perhaps we might still have her in our possession."

"Yeah, and freaked her out in the process." Sam scoffed. "She's new to our whole world. Popping her around the globe and shooting off magic tricks would probably have scared the crap out of her."

"Besides Crowley knows where the bunker is." Dean added gruffly. "He would have showed up on our doorstep sooner or later." The older Winchester sighed. "Damnit!" He punched the door of the bunker, then leaned his forehead against his arm on the frame.

"We'll get her back." Sam reassured him. A steely determination had filled his face, and Dean took some solace from that.

"Yeah well, let's get started now." He growled, straightening himself out and shouldering open the door. "The less time she spends with that psychopath the better."

"There may be a way to track her" Castiel piped up as they passed onto the metal landing and down the stairs "Using her soul as a source. God's disappearance should have activated her latent powers, which means there should be a spell to locate such a high concentration."

"Then let's hit the books." Said Sam.

"You hit the books, I'm gonna dig through the inventory, see if there's a stick of Jesus or some other bullshit we can use." Dean replied, gesturing with one hand.

"I do not believe such a thing exists." Castiel frowned. "Jesus would have touched many sticks, and since his power was on lend from God, it is doubtful that any of it would have passed to the object."

"Yeah well, thanks Cas. That helps." Grunted Dean.

The angel watched him stomp off, brow furrowed as he tried to decide if Dean's response had been sincere. Sam sighed heavily, drawing a possibly relevant stack of books off the shelf.

"Any idea where a soul power spell would originate from?" He asked him.

Castiel turned over to the younger Winchester. "Enochian, originally." He replied, wandering closer to look over Sam's shoulder at the worn book covers. "I believe some primitive Asian cultures dabbled in soul power."

Sam sighed again. "Ok. That's a start I guess." Leaning forward on both hands, he flipped open a book, letting it fall with a thud upon the desk. Castiel watched him silently.

"What do you intend to do when you find the girl?" He questioned.

"Rescue her. What else?" Sam answered, looking over his shoulder curiously.

"Yes, and then what?" Castiel pressed.

"What do you mean?"

The angel paced around the side of the table, touching one hand lightly upon a book. "Her soul will begin to resonate soon. There will be no stopping the influx of candidates once that happens."

Sam reached up one hand to pinch the brow of his nose. "I'm kinda hoping the warding in the bunker will at least mute that."

Castiel casually flipped open a book, skimming the contents. "Perhaps. Against those outside its walls."

The taller man looked up at him, surprised. "What do you mean, outside its walls?"

Cas glanced over at him. "Well, you, Dean, and myself are all within the boundaries of the warding." He pointed out. "It won't have any affect on us."

Sam shrugged. "So?"

The angel's brow furrowed. "So, when her soul begins to resonate, it will be us that answer it."

Sam raised a hand, palm out. "Wait, are you telling me that we...that she...we're going to..." He gestured slightly and raised his eyebrows.

Castiel frowned. "If you are asking if we shall develop an insatiable desire to have intercourse with her, then yes." He concluded, and Sam became visibly uncomfortable at the word ' _intercourse_ '. "It will likely be beyond our control, forcing us into primal, physical–"

"OK! Ok," Sam interrupted him. "I get it." He sighed heavily again. "Is there any way to stop it? Or maybe slow it down?"

His head tilted to the side as he considered the question. "Our proximity to her soul would be the root of our desires." He thought aloud. "If the warding God replaced on the bunker is truly stronger than it was, then when we leave it our senses should return to normal." He looked off towards where Dean had exited. "But I am not sure how long it would take to regain our individual homeostasis, and what would happen if we were to return once more." His gaze turned back to meet Sam's. "I am not even positive leaving the bunker would actually negate the power of her resonance, especially after prolonged exposure."

Sam ran one hand through his hair. "I guess we'll just have to figure that out when we get to it." He breathed with a shrug. "We won't even have to deal with that if we don't get her back from Crowley first."

Right on cue, there came a knock at the door to the bunker. Sam and Castiel looked at each other in confusion, as if simultaneously wondering if one of them was at the door. Dean came stomping in from the adjoining room, a scowl on his face.

"Did I just hear a knock?" He demanded. "A knock? At our _secret_ bunker? The one that _no one_ alive knows exists?"

No one answered, but all three moved to the stairs, jogging up them quickly. Sam reached the door first, and with a quick glance back over his shoulder at Dean, tugged it open.

"Hello boys." came the familiar greeting.

Before another word could be said, Sam grabbed the tailored shoulders of the demon's suit and pulled him in, slamming him against the wall.

"Crowley!" Snapped Dean, demon knife already drawn and angled at the King of Hell's throat.

"What are you doing here? Where's the girl?!" Snapped Sam.

"Put that away before you hurt yourself, Squirrel," Crowley snarked "Your little toothpick doesn't spook me."

"What have you done with the Mother of God?" Castiel demanded, his own angel sword drawn and ready.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" he replied simply, nodding over their shoulders.

As one the three pivoted, to see Alexandra standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face.

"Alex!" Breathed Sam, relief flooding his face.

Dean's brow furrowed. "How...how are you even here?" He snapped his gaze to the demon then back at her. Anger filled his features. "Did you make a deal?!" He half-shouted.

She shook her head. "No, not really."

"Not really?" Echoed Dean. "What does that mean 'not really'? He didn't just let you walk out of the goodness of his heart."

"Actually, I did exactly that." Replied Crowley, pushing Sam away forcefully.

"You don't have a heart." Dean shot back.

Sam glared at the demon as he carefully stepped over to Alex's side. "Are you ok? What happened?" He asked her, voice laced with concern, eyes darting between her and Crowley.

She nodded reassuringly, a small smile filling her lips. "I'm fine, really." She told him. "Nothing happened. We just talked."

"Says you." Snapped Dean. He spun and glared at her. "Did you kiss him?"

Hart was obviously taken aback by the comment. "What?!" She exclaimed, "Why the hell would I kiss him?"

"Because I am quite charming and handsome." Crowley piped in. When she turned to look at him, he smiled coyly. "And I am an excellent kisser." Here he shot her a wink. "Among other things."

"Crossroads demons seal deals with a kiss." Sam explained as Alex rolled her eyes at Crowley.

"So what deal did you make him?" Dean growled, pointing at the King of Hell with his knife at the end of his extended arm.

"No deal." She replied firmly, holding his angry gaze. "He asked me what I wanted, and I said I wanted to come back. That's it."

Sam looked suspiciously at Crowley. "Its never as simple as that with him."

"She also agreed to keep you monkeys off my back, and that I can see her whenever I'd like." Crowley added, tucking his hands into his suit coat's pockets.

"What?" Snapped Dean.

Alexandra threw up her hands helplessly. "In comparison to my other choices at the time, that didn't seem half bad."

"Not half... not half bad?" Dean sputtered. "That's bad! That's all bad! There's no half about it."

"And why should we let you see her?" Sam interjected.

The demon cocked his head to one side, tucking his hands into his coat. "Because I could've kept her locked away someplace you'd never have even the slightest hope of finding." He replied coldly. "But instead, I decided to be the bigger demon and bring her back." His eyebrows twitched upwards. "Consider this my payment."

Castiel grabbed Crowley by the lapels again, slamming him back against the wall and pressing the tip of his sword against his neck. "Your payment will be my sword buried deep inside your throat." He growled softly.

"Not now, darling, we've got company." Crowley smirked, then winked at the angel. "I'll come find you later."

Castiel gritted his teeth, pressing the tip of his weapon deeper into the soft flesh of the demon's neck.

"Castiel, stop!" Alex exclaimed, stepping over and putting her hand on his arm. The angel glanced over at her. "I agreed not to let you hurt him." She searched the angel's deep blue eyes with her own. "Please don't make my word mean nothing."

Castiel looked back at Crowley, who had a small, smug smile on his lips. With an angry sigh, he slowly lowered his sword and took a step back. The demon brushed his hands down the front of his suit, smug look still on his face. The others all looked as though they'd like to cut it off.

Alex looked between the gathered men, feeling the palpable tension in the room. "Look, I just... I just want to figure out how to stop this... _destiny_ or whatever. And go back to being normal again." Her eyes settled on the Winchesters. "You guys said there might be a way. How do we find out if there is?"

The brothers glanced at each other. "We'll dig." Said Dean with a shrug. "Through our resources here, and all our sources out in the world." He sheathed the knife and tucked his thumbs into his pants pockets. "Try to see if there's any soul suppression or fate changing magic or totem or whatever."

Sam nodded in agreement. "There's gotta be something."

"There might not be." Dean warned.

"But there _might_ be." Alex pointed out. "And that's all I need. Just tell me what to do."

Crowley cleared his throat, and the group turned to look at him. "I'll set my people on it as well." The demon declared. "If there's something on the dark side that'll help, I'll shake it loose."

"And why the hell would you help?" Growled Dean.

The demon cocked an eyebrow. "Because the sooner she realizes there's no escaping her fate, the sooner she'll start exploring her other options." He replied. "And if just you louts are searching, she'll always hold on to some useless scrap of hope." He looked over at her. "Best to crush all that optimism right out of the gate, sweetheart."

"Thanks." She said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Anytime love." He replied with a smirk.

"Right." Dean clapped his hands together. "Castiel, keep searching like you were before we tracked her down. Pour your new archangel mojo into it if you have to. Crowley will comb the underworld. Sam and Alex can hit the books, and I'll start calling our contacts." He shrugged. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Castiel looked over at Dean, expression grim. "I'm not sure we'll have much time left."

"What do you mean?"

"It's only a matter of time before her soul begins to do as it is destined, and calls out to any and all potential candidates." Castiel told him.

"Damn." Cursed Dean.

Alex looked over at the angel with concern. "How long?" She asked softly.

He looked at her, expression almost guilty. "I'm... not sure." He replied slowly, then shook his head. "Not long. Could be months. Could be weeks." He paused, hesitating. "Could be a few days."

"Your soul will resonate," Sam explained "Kind of like a silent song or invisible beacon. There's warding on the bunker that should lock it in here. But..." He glanced over at Dean. "Anyone inside the bunker won't be protected by it."

Castiel nodded along as Sam spoke. "Its strength will also grow." he added "If we haven't found a solution and your destiny hasn't been fulfilled, your resonance will become so powerful not even the bunker's warding will contain it."

Dean half shook his head. "Then clock's ticking." He looked around at everyone. "Let's get to work."


	5. In the Bunker

Alex gave a frustrated sigh, leaning back from the book she had been pouring over. Her back ached and her head hurt. Not to mention the looming dread that gripped at her heart with cold, stinging fingers. She ran her hands through her hair, wincing at the greasiness she felt there. She wasn't sure what time it was, but it had been hours at least.

She looked over at Sam, sitting in an armchair nearby, brow furrowed in concentration as he read a thick, leather bound book. As if he felt her eyes, he looked up, meeting her gaze.

"You ok?" He asked.

She shrugged and sighed again. "I'll survive."

He considered her carefully for a moment. She dropped her gaze back to the book on the desk, not having the strength to hold his gaze. Suddenly her stomach gave a very audible grumble, and she winced again.

Sam gave a small smile. "When was the last time you ate?" He asked.

She shrugged. "At the Gas 'n Sip."

He closed his book. "You only had a few pork rinds and half a beer there." He pointed out. "And that was hours ago." He checked his watch. "It's nearly midnight now."

She shrugged again. "Haven't felt much like eating."

He looked at her with concern. "You gotta take care of yourself." He put the book on his lap on the coffee table and walked over to her. "I'm gonna make you some food. In the meantime, why don't you take a shower, put on some fresh clothes."

Alex twirled a strand of hair around her finger thoughtfully. A shower would be nice. "I don't have any other clothes." She pointed out.

Sam looked about thoughtfully. "I'll see what I can find. Maybe something one of Dean's... dates left behind in the Impala, or maybe the Men of Letters have some stuff here." He reached down and closed her book. "Let me show you to a room you can use as yours."

She looked up at him, leaning over her, his face laced with concern. Damn it was hard not to pour all her trust onto him and those big, brown, puppy dog eyes. She nodded defeatedly, and pushed her chair back. "Only if you have something to eat too."

He smiled. "Agreed."

The hunter lead her down a narrow hallway lined with doors, pointing out several as they passed. "That's Dean's room. This one's mine. Castiel uses that one, though I'm not really sure what for as he doesn't eat or sleep." He told her as they walked. "And this," He stopped before one of the grey doors, the number 610 in gold lettering just below the Men of Letter's insignia "This one can be yours."

Alex smiled. "6-10." She looked over at Sam. "That's my birthday."

He beamed. "No way." A soft laugh. "Well then, this room was definitely meant for you." He reached over and swung the door open.

The room was small, about the size of a dorm room in college, with walls that were brick until about halfway up where they switched to plaster. A full sized bed with plain grey sheets occupied the majority of the room, but there was also a small dresser and table with a lamp on it. An empty shelf hung on one wall, a mirror on another, and a small arm chair sat near the table tucked into a corner.

"It's a little dusty," Sam commented "No one's used it yet. But make it your own."

Alex gave a small, sad smile. "Thank you." She said softly.

Sam nodded, looking about the little room. "The bathroom is communal, I'll show you." He explained, turning and heading down the hall.

She looked around the room one last time before following Sam, closing the door behind her. At the end of the hall to the right was a room lined with tile from floor to ceiling. Sinks and mirrors lined one wall, stalls with old wooden doors lined the other. Sam walked over to what looked like a small closet, pulling out some towels.

"The showers are over there." He said, pointing to a doorway at the end of the bathroom. "They are just open, with half walls between them..." He dropped off, running his hand through his hair. "There weren't originally any women allowed in the Men of Letters..." He walked back over to her, avoiding eye contact. "But you can lock this door," He gestured to the main door. "And we'll come up with some system to know when you're in the shower so that you can have some privacy."

Alex couldn't help but laugh. "Ok. No problem." She took the towels from him, looking about. "Soap?" She asked hopefully.

"Right, Dean had bought some at the Gas 'n Sip..." He turned about. "I'll be right back," He told her, and strode out.

Hart sighed, looking about the bathroom again. There were about five stalls and five sinks with accompanying mirrors. She made her way to the other side of the room, peering through the door-less frame. The showers were just as Sam had described, three of them, with shower heads hanging down from the ceiling. She saw a few bottles of shampoo, shaving cream, and soap spattered about.

"Here you go." Sam announced as he returned, caring a plastic bag. "Use whatever you need." He pointed to another small closet. "There should be some robes in there, and I'll put what clothes I can find on your bed, as well as some fresh sheets."

Alex beamed at him. "I've got to say, the room service here is great." She teased.

He laughed. "Well, trying to make the best of a bad situation." He raised his palms and smiled. "Take as long as you want. I'll knock on your door when food's ready, but there's no rush."

"Ok." She nodded, looking down at the towels still in her hands.

"I'll show you where the laundry and kitchen are later." He told her as he made his way out the door. "And I'll make sure the guys know not to come in here until you're done."

And with that he was gone, leaving her alone in the tiled room. Water dripped somewhere, echoing about the empty space almost drearily. She took off her shoes and socks, leaving them by the door to the hallway, then padded barefoot over to the back room. Picking a shower with no bottles or soaps in it, she placed the towels on the waiting bench and dug through the bag Sam had brought. There were various different soaps, and some shampoos. But more conditioners than shampoo. All travel size. Then there was a pack of pink razors and a toothbrush as well as two different types of toothpaste. A tiny hairbrush with a comb for a handle sat at the bottom of the bag. There was also some cheap looking lip gloss with little smiley faces all over the packaging and...some powder blush? She almost laughed.

Gathering the soaps and shampoos, she striped down and walked over to the shower stall. Placing the items on a small shelf, she played with the faucets on the wall until the temperature felt just right. Steam quickly gathered around her and she couldn't help but linger under the stream of water, letting it wash over her. It felt good on her sore back and frayed nerves.

She washed herself up slowly, enjoying the pressure. But she still felt on edge, glancing over to the door constantly as if worried someone would appear there. The steam filled the room, to the point where she almost couldn't see around her. After maybe half an hour she finally turned off the water before wrapping herself in one towel and her hair in another. She took the toothbrush and toothpaste out to the other room, wiping steam off the mirror and brushing her teeth. In the closet where he had said, she found a robe and wrapped it about herself. Gathering up her things, she opened the hallway door, peering out before darting over to 610.

Inside the room she found a small pile of folded clothes and fresh sheets as promised. Discarding her used clothes on the floor, she picked through her choices. T-shirts mostly, with various band names. All men's sizes medium and large. A pair of men's jeans that looked like they might fit, and a pair of women's capris. A worn looking coat, men's size small. Some...scanty looking panties that had her raising her eyebrows and made her cheeks flush. A few cami's and...one women's sock...

Pulling her used bra back out of the pile on the floor, she put on one of the pair of panties (after doing a sniff test to be sure they were actually clean) and the men's jeans with a cami on top. She frowned at herself in the mirror, but sighed, brushing out her hair with the tiny brush. It would have to do.

There was a soft knock at the door just as she started running the brush through her hair. Whoever was on the other side didn't wait for an answer, pushing it open.

She turned towards the sound and found a smirking demon standing there.

"Crowley."

"Hello love." He said, cocking his head to the side.. "Miss me?"

She rolled her eyes and continued brushing her hair, turning away from him. Slowly he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Looks like I should have come a touch earlier to catch a show." He noted, studying her wet hair. She glared at him in the mirror. His wandering gaze fell upon the clothes on the bed and his eyebrows raised. "Not much of a selection, eh?"

"It's what they had." She replied curtly with a shrug.

He hmphed. "I'll get you a more befitting wardrobe." He picked up one very naughty pair of panties with one finger. "Although I like this one."

Alex pivoted to face him. "Do you need something?" she snapped, irritated.

He tossed the panties back onto the bed. "Actually, I come bearing gifts." He replied, putting his hand into his inner pocket. She faced him cautiously, crossing her arms. From inside his coat he pulled out an iPod with a screen so cracked bits were missing and you could see the circuits underneath.

"My iPod!" She exclaimed, surprised.

He nodded, turning it around in his hand. "Popped by your old place for a spell. Grabbed a few things. Thought you might want this." He extended it out to her. She stepped over, reaching for it. He brushed his fingertips against her knuckles as he handed it to her.

She looked down at it. "Thanks." She said softly, tracing one of the cracks with her finger.

"Seems to have been damaged in the scuffle." He noted.

She shook her head. "No, it was always like that." She reassured him with a small laugh.

He gave a small, bemused smile. "I grabbed a few other things I thought you might want." He offered casually.

Alex looked over at him curiously. "Oh? What else did you bring?"

A coy look returned to his face. "Now love." He chided "You'll have to earn them."

She rolled her eyes. "Bribing me with my own stuff? That's low."

He shrugged. "I'm a demon. Can't get lower than hell."

"Well, whatever else you have, I'm sure its not worth what you'd ask for in return." She pointed out, picking up one of her damp towels and using it to wipe the dust off the furniture in the room.

"You don't even know what I want." He intoned, acting hurt.

"I thought you were supposed to be searching for an answer to my problem." She returned, not looking at him.

He breathed out through his nose. "I've got all my best on that. But I wouldn't hold your breath." He watched her move about the room. "And I'm looking for my own answers."

She turned back to him. "Answers to what?"

Another small smile played across his lips. "Answers about you, darling."

She considered him. "That's why you went to my apartment." She concluded.

He nodded. "Didn't tell me much though. Very simple." He paced a little closer. "You've travelled a bit. Worked in childcare." He stopped when there was less than an arms length between them.

She didn't answer, looking away from him back down at the towel in her hands. He let the silence stretch for a bit, studying her face.

"Answer a few questions for me, and I'll give you the things I nabbed." He offered.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "What kind of questions?"

He shrugged. "Nothing you'll think matters too much."

"Like?" She pressed.

"Like..." He looked about the room. "What's your favorite color?"

She laughed aloud at that. "Why does it matter?"

He smiled slyly at her. "Exactly."

She scoffed softly and rolled her eyes. "Blue." She replied.

"Alright." He stepped closer, reaching out and taking the towel from her hands. "Are you an outdoor or indoor person?"

She stepped back away from him, looking him up and down suspiciously. "I don't know. Outdoor, I guess."

"Cats or dogs?"

Her frown deepened. "Both."

"You enjoy music?" He questioned.

"I appreciate it," she answered, getting annoyed. "Look, I don't know what your end game is but-"

"One last question," He interrupted, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a picture frame. "Who are these people?"

Alex's heart stopped as she looked at the familiar picture. A family of five stood smiling in the frame; an older man with greying blonde-brown hair and an older woman with dark brown hair streaked with silver sat before a trio of similar faced offspring, two boys and... herself. She looked guardedly at Crowley.

He studied her face a moment before speaking again. "I assume its your family, seeing as you all look so alike." He mused "And seeing it near your bed (albeit on the floor) makes me think you are quite fond of them." He looked down at the picture for a moment before glancing back up at her. "Am I right?" He asked, holding out the frame to her.

She nodded slowly, taking the photo gingerly, as if it might break at any moment. "Yeah." She touched the glass, looking down at her family. "My parents. And my brothers."

"Older brothers?" Crowley inquired. Alex simply nodded.

She stared down at their faces, thinking deeply. She felt guilty then, realizing that she hadn't really thought about them since being swept up in this hot mess. Though Sam had said keeping them out of it was probably safer for them. But was it really? Maybe they should be told what was out there. She wondered if anyone knew she was missing yet. Or if anyone cared.

"Consider it another token of my affections." Crowley purred softly, stepping over as she stood distracted with her thoughts. He reached out and tucked one strand of golden hair back behind her ear. "There will be many more." He promised.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, making Alex jump.

"Hey, food's ready." Came Sam's voice from the other side.

She looked over at Crowley, who raised one finger to his lips. "Ok, I'll be right there." She called back, eyes never leaving the King of Hell's.

They listened to his footsteps recede. "You've got Moose cooking for you" the demon commented "Seems the boys are already being wrapped tight around your little finger." He scooped up her hand, running his fingertips up and down her finger to exaggerate his point. "Don't get too attached though, sweetheart." He warned softly, turning her hand over in his and tracing small circles on her soft wrist. "Remember what I told you about those two."

"I know." She said coldly, and tried to pull her hand back. But Crowley tightened his grip about her wrist, looking up into her eyes.

"If you want someone to be attached to," He crooned, stepping in even closer "I have a particular, very willing individual in mind." A scowl formed on her lips as he stood inches away from her, their noses almost touching. She tried to pull away but he held her fast. He reached out with his other hand, stroking it along the edge of her jaw so lightly she could barely feel him. But even that slightest touch made goosebumps raise all over her skin. She pulled her head back, but he simply stepped closer. "I could give you... _everything_ you desire..." He breathed softly, and she felt her pulse begin to race. "And so much more..." His skimming fingers tucked back her hair behind her ear, burying into her locks and lightly resting his palm against her cheek. "I could make you a Queen." His hand was so warm against her skin, she felt a shiver run down her spine. "...Tell me what you want. And its yours." He promised, stretching his thumb out and tracing it ever so lightly across her lips.

Her sky blue eyes searched his grey-green, and though fear tickled at her throat it wasn't reflected in her face. Instead her expression was one of sadness mingled with confusion. She looked... lost...

"I..." She breathed out. She closed her eyes tightly and pulled away from him, tearing herself from his grasp. He let her retreat. Her back to him, she clutched the photo frame in both hands, eyes still closed tight.

She let out a steadying breath, steeling herself and walking over to the small table. She sat the frame there, her gaze lingering on it for a moment before she turned and made her way towards the door. Crowley watched her, his expression unreadable. As she pulled open the door, she paused, looking back over at him finally.

"If I had to pick one thing, I'd say I want my family to be safe." She told him, looking him in the eye. He didn't answer, just put his hands in his pockets, so she turned and left the room.

She forced herself to breathe deep as she walked back towards the main room of the bunker. Shaking off the whirlwind of emotions she had just felt, she made her way over to the long table she had been sitting at. Sam was already there, a burger on a plate in front of him and a beer in hand, sipping at it as he flipped through the pages of a book. Dean was there too, tapping keys on a laptop with a half eaten burger in one hand. Another burger and a beer sat at an empty chair, which she took, eyeing the burger hungrily.

"Hey," greeted Sam, straightening up and lowering his book. "How was your shower?"

"Good, good." She replied, picking up the burger. "Thanks for the, uh... clothes, by the way."

"Yeah, I'm sorry we don't have more to offer you..." Sam rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.

"No worries. Doesn't really matter to me what I wear." She said with a small smile.

"We'll get you some new stuff later." Dean promised, mouth full of half-chewed burger. "But right now, let's do an update."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Is there anything to tell?"

He shook his head, and her hopes sank. "I've gotten through most of our contacts, and none of them have ever heard of any spells or charms to help tame a soul. But I did get the idea to call on a soul expert."

"A soul expert?" Hart echoed. "Is there such a thing?"

"Yeah," Said Sam, obviously disdainful of the notion. "Reapers."

"Reapers? Like... grim reapers?"

"More or less. They shuttle souls to either heaven, hell, purgatory, the veil; wherever they are destined to go." Sam explained.

"But uh," Dean interjected "We aren't exactly on the... best terms with them..."

"How exactly do you get on a reapers bad side?" Hart asked incredulously.

Sam cleared his throat. "Well, dying a lot without ever staying dead probably started it..."

"And then we kinda... ganked Death..." Dean added.

She looked back and forth between the two of them. "Are you...oh my god you're serious..." She threw her hands up. "How do you kill Death?"

Dean shrugged. "With his own Scythe...apparently..."

"Jesus fucking Christ." She breathed, leaning back in her chair, burger temporarily forgotten.

"Luckily you boys have a trump card." Came an arrogant voice from the stairwell.

Alex picked up her burger again, taking a bite and ignoring the King of Hell as much as she could. The Winchesters fixed him with an icy glare.

"You're not allowed to just stroll in here whenever you'd like." Snapped Dean. "At least knock first!"

"Alright dearie, no need to get your panties all in a bunch." Crowley replied coldly. "Didn't mean to intrude on your girl talk." He made his way down the stairs as if coming from outside. Alex knew better and shot him a sideways glance. He gave her a brilliant smile. "Hello love." He crooned "Miss me?"

Just as before, she rolled her eyes, working hard not to bite off her own tongue as she ground her teeth together. She ignored him otherwise and took another bite of her burger.

"You think you're our trump card?" Sam posed in disbelief.

Crowley cocked his head to the side. "Who else would be?" He fixed them with a steely glare. "Certainly not your little angel bum buddy." If looks could kill the King of Hell would be impaled on the opposite wall at that moment. "But you're barking up the wrong tree, as per usual," He continued on. "I already chased down that lead hours ago. Dead end." He paused, eyebrows raising in amusement. "Quite literally, really."

"And we're supposed to take your word on it?" Dean demanded.

The demon feigned insult. "I've always been a demon of my word." He paced over to stand near the girl, hands clasped behind his back. "And I promise you my investigation was..." He paused, contemplating a word choice, then grinned wickedly. "...Thorough." He looked down at Hart and her burger and frowned. "Really boys, this is what you make the future Mother of God? A burger? And cheap beer?" His voice dripped with distain.

Snapping his fingers, a platter filled with shrimp, lobster, and steak tips suddenly appeared before her with baked asparagus and wild rice on the side, as well as a glass of white wine and its bottle in a silver vase filled with ice. The burger had disappeared from her hands, as had the beer. Alex couldn't help but look surprised, and looked over at the Winchesters, who's faces screamed their indignation.

"I believe you'll find this more appealing." He purred, gesturing to the spread before her.

She leaned back from the table stubbornly, even though the smell of the food made her mouth water. "No thanks." She said, crossing her arms.

Dean smirked, chuckling. "Oh, I like her."

Crowley did not look so amused. "Yes, you bull-headed sort do tend to enjoy your own kind." He quipped. He turned back to the girl. "As endearing as I find your stubbornness, love, I assure you I didn't mean to bruise your pride with this little stunt." He gave a small smile, "I merely wished to lavish you with the luxuries you deserve."

She shook her head. "I don't deserve any luxuries." She replied stubbornly.

He gave a small 'hmm', studying her. "I see. I understand now." He stated with a nod, clarity filling his face. Alex frowned at him, wondering what devious thoughts were running through his head.

"Understand what?" Snapped Dean, not interested in being ignored.

The demon turned to look at him, and smirked. "If you haven't figured it out, don't let me get in your way." He intoned in a bored manner. "Likely you'll never figure it out. But it matters not. My point was that the reapers have nothing to share that we don't already know."

"Yeah well, we'll just ask one for ourselves." Dean growled, reaching across the table and taking her plate of steak tips.

Crowley snapped his fingers again and the plate disappeared from Dean's hands, reappearing in his. "That is not for you, Squirrel." He scolded, placing the plate back on the silver platter before Alex.

She looked up at him with a scowl. "I don't like steak." She shot. "He can have it."

Dean smirked again. "Well then, there you have it. Hand it over." He reached out and grabbed the plate again, snatching a piece up with his fingers and bringing it to his mouth. His face filled with pleasure as he chewed it, and he looked over at Sam with a big grin on his face. "This is really good." He sputtered around the half-chewed cow in his mouth.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Are you sure the reaper had nothing useful to say?" He asked Crowley.

"Doesn't matter. We'll ask one ourselves." Dean declared again around a mouth stuffed with steak. He licked his fingertips, smacking his lips.

Crowley gave him a disgusted look. "I was under the impression we were on a very tight schedule. Going back over things that have already been done seems like a waste of time we don't have."

Sam sighed. "So now what?"

Alex had sneaked a shrimp off her plate and into her mouth, hoping Crowley wouldn't notice. "Well, are there any other ' _soul experts'_?" She asked, putting air quotes around the words.

"I doubt there's anything out there to find." the demon quipped. "I say we give up while we're behind and explore other options." He grinned as he turned, catching Alex trying to sneak another shrimp off the plate. "Enjoying yourself?" He asked.

She sighed. "It's good... damnit." She admitted reluctantly. She ate another shrimp, glaring at him while she chewed. "Thank you."

He smirked. "Manners? How lovely to find them in a place like this..." His gaze wandered over to Dean, who was still stuffing his mouth with steak tips. "My pleasure to provide. And anytime you wish. Just ask, love." He tilted his head to the side. "So, ready to give up yet? Accept your fate?"

"Hardly." She scoffed, picking up the wine.

"Ah, but this shows me a light at the end of the tunnel." He pointed out. "You're stubborn, but not to your own death bed. Unlike those morons over there." He gestured at the Winchesters.

"This isn't getting us anywhere." Sam interjected before Dean could begin arguing with Crowley again. "We'll just have to keep looking." He looked over at the demon. "What about witches?"

Dean made an irritated noise. "I hate witches." He complained.

"For once, I agree with meat-face over there." The demon replied. "Though they might be able to cast a spell or create a talisman, it would probably only work for a short period of time." He mused "Until her power outgrows it."

"What about tracking down another Hand of God?" Sam proposed.

"And what, blow her up?" Dean scoffed. "They're weapons, Sam."

"But if we could harness its power, or transfer it, we might be able to cage her soul in her body or something." Sam reasoned.

Crowley shrugged. "Alright then. I'll work on finding another Hand of God, if one even exists." He reached over, pulling out the wine bottle from its ice and popping out the cork. "You two can try to track down a way to manipulate the power, which probably won't work." He refilled her glass before re-corking the bottle and replacing it in the ice. "And even if it does work without killing her, it probably won't hold for long."

"Its your endless optimism I find most endearing." Alexandra said sarcastically, lifting the glass and gently swirling its contents before bringing it to her lips.

The demon chuckled at her words, the smallest of smiles rolling across his lips. "Don't worry, love." He purred. "I'll be back as quick as I can." And with that, he turned, disappearing into thin air.

"Any word from Cas?" Sam asked after Crowley had left.

Dean shook his head, wiping his hands on his shirt and pulling out his phone. "I'll shoot him a text and ask for an update."

Alexandra picked at the food on her plate, chewing slowly. "So there are witches too."

Dean nodded without looking up from his phone. "Yup. Nasty, messy, little bitches." He glanced over then, smirking. "I mean, witches."

"Still, maybe we should ask one to make us a talisman or two." Sam pointed out. "To help protect us agains the affects of Alex's soul resonance."

The older Winchester shook his head. "The less people who know about her, the better." He pointed out. "Especially those who practice dark magic."

"What about James?" Sam pointed out. "And Portia?"

Dean clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "Well, there are those two. Not that I trust them entirely... but more than most witches. And... you know... dog-women..."

"What?" The girl chimed in, confused.

"Portia is a familiar; a creature that comes to witches to help them, guide them, and to be their companion and ally. They can take on a human and an animal form." Sam explained.

"Ah... right..." She popped some lobster into her mouth. "And what's a … Hand of God?"

"Ordinary, every day things that were touched by God and retained some of his power." Dean explained. "They are one hit wonders, but pack a serious punch."

"We've encountered three before," Sam added "A piece of driftwood, a staff, and a goat horn."

Alex chewed another piece of lobster, nodding slowly. "Ok then..."

The sudden flurry of wings announced Castiel's presence.

"Cas!" Exclaimed Dean. "Any news?"

Alex turned towards him hopefully. But the angel merely shook his head. "I'm afraid not. It seems God didn't share Miss Hart's creation and soul with anyone, nor did he leave any information on it aside from the tablet which he gave us before he left."

"Which we can only kind of read." Sighed Sam, leaning back in his chair, running his hands through his hair.

Castiel looked over at Alexandra. "I'm sorry. I wish I had more helpful information." He apologized softly.

"Not your fault." She said with a sad smile. "I appreciate all you're doing for me." She looked around at the others. "Everything you all are doing for me."

"Not a problem, Blondie." Dean replied, returning her smile.

"Just doing our job." Sam added, shuffling his feet embarrassedly.

"It helps that we like you too." Dean continued, standing up.

"If anyone deserves our aid, it's you." Castiel chimed in. "Not only do you have a powerful soul, but you have a good heart."

Alex laughed, taking another sip of her freshly filled wine glass. "You guys are gonna make me blush."

Dean grinned like a fool. "I've got a few other choice words I could say to make you blush all over." He teased, winking at her.

Castiel looked confused. "Why would you wish to make her blush?" He asked. "Generally that implies embarrassment or shame. She is undeserving of such harsh treatment."

She laughed again, taking another sip. "A blush can mean something else too." She offered, amused. Then she smiled. "Dean's attempting to flirt, I believe."

"Crudely." Sam added, giving his brother a dirty look.

"Oh...I see..." the angel looked over at Dean then, with concern. "Has her soul begun to resonate already? If you find you are too inhibited by its affects–"

"Woah, woah, woah, Cas." Dean held up his hands. "Relax."

"Yeah, Cas." Sam reassured him. "Don't worry. No soul resonance yet. Just Dean being a jerk."

But his comment gave Alex pause. "Is it possible that it could be?" She asked, more to herself than expecting any reply.

Dean laughed awkwardly. "No no, I promise, I was just...uh..." he dropped off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That's just how Dean flirts." Sam finished for him.

"Yeah but, why flirt with me?" She pressed.

The older Winchester looked incredibly uncomfortable with the question. "Well, because you're... you know... and I called dibbs so..."

"He thinks you're hot." Sam finished for him again.

Dean shot him an incredulous look. "Dude!" He exclaimed.

"It's not about your soul." Sam continued, ignoring Dean's protest.

Dean stammered uselessly. "Well, I mean,.. yeah... you- I...uh.." He tried to gesture with his hands to save himself, but it just made him look more lost.

"Why is Dean unable to speak properly?" Castiel asked, concerned. "Is he having a stroke?"

Sam started laughing, and Dean glared at him angrily. "Oh yeah? You think that's funny?" He snapped. "Well Sam likes you a lot too." He looked over at Alex smugly. "That's why I had to call dibbs in the first place."

"Dude!" Sam protested. His face was turning red.

Alex looked back and forth between the brothers. "But how do we know my soul's not resonating?"

Sam scratched his head, looking away awkwardly. "I mean, we both liked you as soon as we met you. Just because of who you are. It has nothing to do with your soul."

"But what if that's _exactly_ why you liked me right off the bat?" She exclaimed. "What if my soul has begun resonating, but just so faintly that it seems like your idea to like me?"

That silenced everyone for a moment. She watched all of them clawing through their brains, looking for a way to dispute her claim. But none of them had any explanation or proof that they liked her without any influence from her innate powers.

Her eyes filled with sorrow and she looked down at the floor. "How can I know if anyone really likes me anymore, or if its just some magic forcing them to..." She spoke so softly it was hardly above a whisper.

"Castiel liked you right away." Sam pointed out. "And if your soul was only resonating a little, he's too powerful to have been affected by it."

She looked over at the angel, who seemed to be considering this. "Yes, I believe he is correct." He agreed finally. "If your soul is beginning to leak enough to affect mortals only in minor ways such as creating a positive impression of you, then it is not yet strong enough to affect myself."

"Especially with his added juice!" Dean proclaimed eagerly.

"Added juice?" She echoed.

Castiel nodded. "Although I was a Seraph, I became the vessel of an archangel, who was forcibly removed while occupying my body. Because I was already an angel when I became his vessel, some of his power got... entangled in mine, and upon his removal it remained behind."

"Seraph? Archangel? Vessel?" Hart echoed, confused.

"Yes, there are different levels of angels, and each have different levels of strength. Archangels are the highest; there were only ever four created. Seraph were just below them. When I died the first time and God raised me again, he brought me back as a Seraph." Castiel explained. "The form you see before you is not my true form, but a human vessel, which I occupy in order to interact with the mortal realm without accidentally destroying it."

Alex nodded slowly. "Riiight..."

"The point is" Dean interjected "that Castiel is too powerful to be affected by a tiny leak of your resonance. So he genuinely likes you."

"And even if it was a leak that made me and Dean like you originally" Sam continued "if you weren't the kind of person we could get along with we would've stopped liking you."

"How do you know?" she pressed.

"Well because if your resonance was strong enough to permanently affect me and Dean, Castiel would have been able to sense it." Sam reasoned.

They all looked at the angel. He looked at Sam and Dean individually before looking back at Alexandra. "...Yes, that is a reasonable conclusion."

She sighed heavily. "Alright. I'll accept that, otherwise I think I might just lose it completely." She looked over at the trio. "But if what Castiel says is true, and my resonance will be starting soon... you three might be the last honest friends I ever make."

Dean grinned, raising his bottle. "Saving the best for last." He joked, taking a sip of his beer.

"We're going to find a solution." Sam insisted. "Some way for you to go about your life however you choose to."

Alex nodded. Her head was starting to feel fuzzy from her fourth glass of wine. She stifled a yawn, looking down at the mostly empty tray before her. It had been a long day.

"Why don't you go get some rest?" Sam suggested. "We'll keep at it for a little longer."

She nodded, not having the strength to argue. Slowly she stood, sweeping back the last of the wine in her glass before gingerly placing it upon the table once more.

"Goodnight guys." She said as she started to walk towards the bedrooms. She heard their replies from over her shoulder.

"Sleep well." Dean.

"You've earned it." Sam.

"I will keep watch over you." Castiel.

She paused in the doorway, looking back at them. "...Thank you, again... for everything you've done and all you're trying to do." She hesitated, looking down at the floor, embarrassed. "I know it's not easy, but I really appreciate it..."

"No problem, Blondie." Dean beamed.

"Get some sleep." Sam added. "The rest can wait til morning."

She nodded, still not looking at them. She dragged her feet to her room where she collapsed on the bed. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was having been up since 5:30 the previous day. But her eyelids felt as if they were made of lead. She glanced over at the small table. Her family smiled back at her from the photo frame. She fell asleep watching their faces.

"...Could she be right?" Sam asked as soon as he was sure she was out of earshot.

"I don't know, Sammy." Dean replied, sighing deeply. "I'd like to think she's no different from any other girl I've hit on. But..."

"We did take to her pretty quick." Sam finished.

"I can't be certain of the extent of her powers presently." Castiel put in. He looked very troubled. "I...I am afraid I spoke untruthfully to her. If she had already begun resonating, I would not be able to sense it. Even with my additional strengths"

"We know, Cas." Sam said. "But it was good of you to tell her you could."

"I do not understand." The angel frowned. "I lied. I should not have lied to her."

"She was feeling like shit." Dean explained. "Letting her believe there's a fail-safe to her resonance brought her some comfort." He looked down the hall she had left by. "And considering her destiny sucks balls, I think a little hope is better than believing you're all alone in the world."

None of them spoke for a moment, each buried in their own thoughts. Castiel's face was still twisted with guilt, while Dean wore a stern, stubborn expression. Sam's eyes were filled with sorrow, and his lips were set into a thin line. After a few moments of the extended silence, Sam sighed again.

"We'll just have to be careful. Not get in over our heads with her." He stated, running one big hand through his hair.

Dean nodded. "And though I'm sure it goes without saying, no hanky-panky." He joked. Sam rolled his eyes.

"What is... hanky-panky?" Castiel asked, confused.

"Think Pizza man and Casa Erotica." Sam answered, bemused. Sudden clarity filled the angel's face, and he cleared his throat, looking about bashfully. "We probably should be careful not to be alone with her for extended periods too." He continued, speaking directly to Dean.

His brother nodded. "Alright. No one-on-one with her from us. Cas should be ok still though."

The angel nodded. "For now I seem unaffected. But I shall inform you when I begin to have impure thoughts regarding her."

Dean cleared his throat. "Great Cas. You do that. Until then," He gestured to the books "Let's get back to work."


	6. Vampires at Breakfast

She might have been able to convince herself it was all a dream. Might have been able to chuckle quietly to herself and roll over to fall back asleep. Except that when she cracked open her eyes to sneak a peak at her phone, it wasn't there. Nor was her bedside table. Instead she saw her family, frozen smiles greeting her like a hollow shadow sitting atop the small table along the opposite wall. Rather than the scent of her detergent, the smell of dust greeted her nose, and the sheets she lay in were all too scratchy.

Slowly she sat up, dreading each inch and feeling a heavy weight lowering itself onto her body. A deep sigh filled the air before her, and she slid her feet over the side of the bed and onto the cold floor. The tiny room seemed so foreign and bare, the lone frame like a destitute monument, forgotten in a desperate escape. It reminded her more of a tomb or a prison cell than a bedroom.

Suddenly eager to leave the room, she stood, stretching and stifling a yawn. She padded barefoot over to the door, pulling it open and peering out into the hall. A florescent light hummed overhead, but otherwise the place seemed quiet.

Quietly she made her way back towards the main area, near the front door. The room was filled with shelves of books and one large table in the middle. A few arm chairs were spattered here and there, and there was ample light for reading. The table was empty though, and after looking about briefly, she found the rest of the room to be the same. Most of the lights were off, save for the backlit map that made up the surface of the table.

Wandering over to it, she looked down at the world. It was strange to think that it still was shaped the same. Somehow she half expected it to look different from how she had learned it, since it seemed so much bigger now. She traced one finger along the edge of the table thoughtfully.

"Did you find your sleep rejuvenating?" A voice echoed from the shadows.

Alex jumped a bit, turning to see a dark silhouette standing a few feet away amid the shelves. "Castiel, I'm sorry," She apologized "I didn't know you were here."

The trench coated angel stepped closer, waving a hand lightly. A lamp nearby flickered to life, and she could see his hardened face more clearly now. "I never left." He intoned in his deep, serious manner. "I apologize if I startled you."

She shook her head. "I just wasn't expecting anyone to be here..." She looked about for a clock. "What time is it?"

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "Ten in the morning." He told her.

"Where is everyone?"

"I assume by 'everyone' you mean the Winchesters, and not the entire human race?" He double checked, and when she nodded he continued "They are asleep. They went to their rooms approximately five hours after you departed for the evening."

She bit her lip, withholding the burning question on her tongue. Had they found anything helpful? But she had a feeling if they had, they wouldn't be sleeping. "I think I remember Sam mentioning that you don't sleep," She said instead "But I thought he was joking."

The angel paced a few feet closer, waving his hand again to turn on a light at a desk next to him, illuminating the pages of a massive book opened there. "He was not." He intoned, peering down at the pages. "As a celestial being, I have no need of rest or earthly sustenance."

"...So what do you do?"

"Generally I continue whatever I was doing." He informed her. "Occasionally I watch television instead."

"You watch TV?" She tried to hide her surprise.

"Yes, I enjoy watching humans interact under intense, dramatized circumstances. Though I am still learning the accuracy of these shows in relation to real life." He explained, a confused expression furrowing his brow.

"...Well, if you ever need to ask someone, let me know." She offered. "I could probably answer any questions you have about it."

"That is very generous of you." He replied. "Thank you."

"No problem..." She looked about. "May I ask you where the kitchen is?"

The angel nodded. "Yes you may."

Alexandra waited, looking over at Castiel. He looked back at her, fingertips resting upon the open pages of the book. He didn't speak, or move at all, and after a few moments she looked about again, confused. Wondering if she had missed something.

"Ummm,... where is it?"

"Let me show you." He answered, and began to move forward, his coat sweeping about his calves.

He strode past her, and she turned to follow, matching his long stride with her own. They moved down a short, wide pair of stairs and down an equally wide hallway. At the end, it opened up into a large kitchen. It looked like a small scale industrious kitchen, with steel shelving lining the half brick walls, and a steel island counter unit in the middle with pots and pans dangling from its top. But it also looked almost like a morgue, with small, square metal doors set into one wall near what looked like a fridge. The shelves had mostly canned goods, with a spattering of boxed food as well. As she walked past, looking over the dented cans and expired cereal, she felt a frown forming on her face. Pacing over to the fridge, she pulled it open, finding exactly what she had been expecting. The shelves were mostly empty save for a block of cheese, a half eaten cold-cut sandwich, some Chinese takeout containers, a single tomato, and a pack of pre-cooked beef patties.

"Right..." She sighed, closing the door. "I don't suppose you have any money on you?"

"Dean has given me what is called a 'credit card', which allows me to spend money I do not have." Castiel replied from the doorway where he had remained as she wandered about the kitchen. "Why do you ask?"

She traced one finger along one of the dusty countertops near the grease splattered stove. "Because we're going to need some groceries." She turned to face him. "Can you take me? Or point me in the direction of the store?"

The angel frowned. "I do not believe it would be wise for you to leave the bunker at this time."

"Alright, then can I give you a shopping list of things to get?" She asked, trying to hide her disappointment. It would've been nice to stretch her legs.

He looked about the kitchen thoughtfully. "I suppose that would be fine, though I don't really understand the different food options available to humans."

"Its ok, I'll write down all the specifics." She assured him, grabbing a nearby pen and notebook. She walked around, quickly scribbling a list as she checked the different shelves. After a minute or two, she tore out the two pages and handed them to Castiel. "Think you can handle it alone?" She noted with concern.

He took the pages from her gingerly, eyes already skimming the contents. "I'll manage." He looked up at her again. "I'll be back as quick as I can."

And with a flutter of wings, he was gone. His sudden disappearance made her jump and gasp in surprise. But after a precursory look around, she decided he was really gone after all. She went over to the pots and pans, beginning to pull down what she would need. She found some towels that looked mostly clean and soaked them with water, wiping down the stove top quickly. She tested the burners then wiped down the counters around the stove and on the island, moving some errant papers and assorted other items to another area. Under one shelf she found a coffee pot, and filled it with water before putting it into the machine and scooping out some fresh beans from a bag near the machine.

By the time she was pouring the coffee beans into the filter, half an hour had passed. She was just lifting another scoop to put into the machine when suddenly;

"I believe I found all the things on your list."

"Jesus Christ!" She jumped so high that the coffee powder flew everywhere, spinning to the ground in a brown cloud. Her hand leapt to grip at her chest as she gasped. She spun to face the angel.

"No, I'm Castiel," He said with a small frown "Remember?"

The angel's arms were full of bags, which he held easily as if they were light as a feather. She gave him a smile, taking a deep steadying breath.

"I know, I'm sorry." She breathed. "You startled me."

"I apologize. That was not my intent." He responded, considering her.

"Thank you for getting everything." She said with a smile. "You can put those on the table there." She gestured, turning back to the coffee machine and loading a fresh scoop into the filter and hitting the on button.

Then she worked quickly, unpacking the bags and spreading out the food. Some things she put away, while others she laid out on the island counter in front of the stove.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble." She said to Castiel as she worked. "I really appreciate you getting it for me."

He shook his head. "It was simple enough... though I do not understand why there are so many different choices for the same item."

She laughed, pulling out a large frying pan. "It's all about brands and making money." She told him as she set the pan on a burner. "People like to believe they have a choice, even if its just an illusion. Could you pass me those?"

He handed her the eggs and butter. "I have observed this." He agreed, nodding his head.

She cracked the eggs on the side of the warm pan, listening to them sizzle as she turned the burner on low and grabbed another pan. "Could you find me a clean mixing bowl?" She asked him.

As he looked about, she laid out some sausage and bacon on the new pan, adding just a dash of salt to the sizzling eggs. Grabbing a spatula, she gently tapped and pushed the eggs about the pan, making sure they cooked thoroughly.

"Is this what you mean?" Asked Castiel, showing her a large ceramic bowl.

She smiled. "That will work!" She exclaimed, flipping the meats over with a pair of tongs. She grabbed a box off the island. "Can you mix three cups of this with two cups of water please?" She asked, handing him the box, a measuring cup, and a mixing spoon. He nodded, his face fixating with determination.

Turning back to the stove, Alex transferred the finished eggs to a plate, cracking a few more into the still hot pan. She did the same with the meats, piling one plate high with bacon and sausage. Plugging in the toaster, she popped in four pieces of bread before going back to the stove.

"Is this good?"

She looked over at the clumpy mess in the bowl and smiled. "Not bad!" She complimented, taking the bowl and mixer from a slightly powdered looking Castiel. She stirred fast, getting rid of the excess clumps in just a minute. Then she took the last of the meats from the pan and began pouring the pancake mix straight onto the greasy pan. "Makes them taste like bacon." She explained to the watching angel.

"Is there something else you'd like me to do?" He questioned, almost eagerly.

She nodded. "Could you rinse the fruit with water?" She asked

Nodding, he set to work at his task while Alex finished off the eggs, removed the toasted bread and replaced it with more, and flipped pancakes. The kitchen was filled with the smell of cooking food, and soon she had plates piled high with a delicious breakfast.

"Mmmmmm MMMhmmm HM!" Came a happy sound. "What smells so amazing?!"

Alex glanced over her shoulder to see Dean coming into the kitchen, tying the sash to his robe. "Breakfast." She answered. "Or more, brunch." She smiled, teasing the last pancake onto the waiting stack. "Help yourself."

A few moments later, Sam wandered in too. When their eyes met, he smiled widely at her. "What's all this?"

"The least I can do." She replied, smiling back at him and setting the plate of pancakes at the table.

"You didn't have to do anything." He told her, pulling a stool over to the island counter to sit next to Dean who was already gathering a plate full of food.

"Don't discourage her, Sammy." Dean put in, rubbing his hands together eagerly as he looked down at his plate. "If she wants to cook, let her cook!"

"Castiel helped." She pointed out.

The angel came over with the fruit gathered in his hands, still damp with water. "I simply fetched the ingredients for her." He replied, and she thought she could see a slight blush to his cheeks. "She was the one who labored. Not I."

The older Winchester stuffed half a pancake into his mouth, and his eyes rolled back into his head. "Holy hell!" He sputtered around his mouthful. "This is amazing!"

"Cooked it in the same pan I cooked the meat." She said, smiling. "Gives it a nice bacony undertone."

He pulled a few more pancakes off the stack onto his plate, shoving a sausage into his mouth with the other hand. "It's freaking amazing!"

Sam scoffed at him and shook his head. She offered him the dish of eggs, which he took graciously, scraping a few onto his plate, as well as a pancake, some bacon, and a small pile of fruit.

"Well, even though you shouldn't have, thanks." He said, picking up his fork. "We don't get to eat this well often."

"I figured as much." She laughed, wiping her hands and walking over to get the coffee pot out of the machine. "This place was basically barren." She grabbed some mugs on her way back over. "Sure you won't have any, Castiel?"

He raised his hands, palms out. "I'm certain." He answered. "I am unworthy of food made by the hands of the Mother."

"Relax, Cas." Dean mumbled around his food. He took the offered cup of coffee from Alex, grinning. "None of us are worthy of shit. But seeing as she made this for us" He raised the cup in a salute "It'd be rude not to eat every last crumb."

"Speaking of crumbs," She noted as she poured another cup for Sam. "Why do you have no milk, butter, or even bread but you have like, dozens of boxes of salt?"

"Lots of things that go bump in the night aren't fans of salt." Sam explained, taking the mug. "Ghosts and demons, to name a few."

"Neber kno wuhen you'w newd walt!" Mumbled Dean around his breakfast.

"So you're telling me, if I sprinkle salt on Crowley he'll what, shrivel up like a slug?"

"Hardly." Came a familiar coarse voice.

They all turned towards the kitchen door, where the King of Hell stood, leaning against the frame. He raised his eyebrows as they looked at him.

"Crowolwe!" Snapped Dean, or at least, he tried to. But his mouth was still full of bacon and pancakes.

"Hello boys." He replied, eyeing the Winchesters and Castiel. Then he turned to face Alex. "Hart." He purred, giving her a charming smile. "Miss me, love?" He looked over the spread as she rolled her eyes. "I see you're having a party." Grey-green eyes settled on her again. "My invitation must have been lost in the mail."

"You're not invited." Growled Dean, having swallowed his previous mouthful. "Actually, your just being here has soured the whole plate."

"I'm sure that won't stop you from stuffing your face." The demon replied sourly.

"Coffee?" Hart asked, offering him a mug.

A wide smile spread across his lips. "Thank you, love, but no thank you." He shot Dean a dirty look. "At least someone in this merry band has some manners."

"I'd offer you tea but I'm afraid we don't have any." She replied, ignoring the knives everyone was shooting each other, turning back to replace the coffee pot in its holder. She poured herself a glass of orange juice before returning to the island table and serving herself a small plate. "Help yourself to breakfast... oh..." She stopped, looking at him curiously. "Do demons eat?"

He smiled at her. "We can, though we don't require sustenance like humans do." He paced closer to the island, standing at the edge and looking over the spread.

"You got some reason for smoking in or are you just here to spoil the mood?" Dean interrupted coldly. Alex mentally rolled her eyes as she spooned breakfast into her waiting mouth.

Crowley's lips split into a small smile. "I've dug up some information on an old witch who might shed some light on the lovely Alexandra's predicament." He answered, lightly tapping his fingertips on the counter. "Ruining your day is just an added bonus."

Alex's heart raced. "A witch?" She asked, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"Where?" Asked Sam, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. Castiel was already starting to stand.

"Just outside Hastings, Nebraska."

"That's not far." Sam stood up eagerly. "Only a few hours drive."

"I can get us there faster." Castiel pointed out.

"Well then, let's go!" Alex drained the rest of her juice in one swallow.

"Hold on a minute." Dean stopped everyone, holding up his hand. He turned, pointing his raised hand at Hart. "You're not going."

"What?" She snapped.

"Dean's right." Sam interjected. "It's too dangerous. You have no experience dealing with the supernatural and witches are a hard hunt to begin with."

"So I'm supposed to sit here on my ass?" Alex shot back. "No fucking way. I'm coming! This is the first lead we've had since we started looking!"

"The boys are right," Crowley put in "Though I'm strained to admit it. This witch is a particularly powerful individual if what my sources say is true. And," He looked over at the brothers. "She's surrounded herself with a vampire nest."

"A witch working with vamps?" Dean echoed. "What the hell?"

The demon shrugged. "My men tell me she has them under some spell, keeping them like pets. Doesn't enjoy getting her own hands dirty if she doesn't have to most likely."

"I don't care if she's strapping bombs to every fence post on her property!" Alex cried. "I'm not waiting here on the sidelines while you all go and get the answers I've been looking for!"

Dean was shaking his head half-way through her speech. "Sorry, Blondie. No can do. You're staying right here, where its safe." He pointed at Castiel. "He's going to stay behind too. Keep an eye on you."

The angel looked just as surprised at the proclamation as Hart was. "Dean, if this witch truly is as powerful as Crowley says, don't you think I should-"

"Look, I'm not bringing the girl with us, and I'm sure as hell not leaving her here alone." Dean interrupted.

"I'll stay with her." Crowley offered.

"NO." Snapped Dean, Sam, and Castiel all at once. Crowley pouted silently.

"No one has to stay with me because I'm not staying here!" Alex declared, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Alright." said Dean, standing up slowly, walking around the table with his palms out. "I didn't want to have to do it this way, but-"

He grabbed Alex's upper arm and began pulling her out of the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing?" She shouted. "Let me go!"

"Sorry again, Blondie, but I don't trust you not to come chasing after us after we leave," Dean told her, making his way down the hallway "And since there's no way in hell I'm putting you in harm's way, this is my only option."

"Sam!" She called desperately over her shoulder, "Castiel! Crowley! Come ON!" She managed to wriggle her arm free and started to back away but Dean wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. "Let me go! Hey!" She kicked her legs out as Dean staggered down the hallway towards her room.

"Sorry, Alex..." Came Sam's soft voice. Looking back she could see the remaining three trailing only a few paces down the hallway. "But Dean's right. Its not safe." His eyes looked guilty.

"Oh come on!" She shouted again, wriggling in Dean's grasp.

"Sammy! The door!" he grunted, hoisting her up again.

His brother darted forward and opened the door to her bedroom. "Stop! No!" She cried, kicking out all the harder. She felt one foot connect solidly against him and he staggered, dropping her. But they were already in the room, and he quickly straightened, blocking the doorway with his body.

"I hate to lock you up, Blondie." He told her, face looking stern. "But it's only temporary. I'll have Cas let you out in a few hours."

She dug her feet into the ground and charged at him, slamming her shoulder into him at full speed. Her momentum knocked him back into the hallway, where he staggered a few steps before falling on his ass. She thought she heard Crowley laugh from somewhere. Sam caught her with both hands, pushing her back into her room.

"I'm not some kid you can ground and send to her room!" She snapped at them. "This is my life we're dealing with! My future!" She glared at Sam. "You can't leave me here!"

He looked at her with a deep, sorrowful expression, pushing her in and backing away. "I'm sorry. We'll call you as soon as we get there." He said, retreating quickly. Before she could gather her momentum again, he slammed the door closed.

"DAMNIT!" She roared, slamming both her fists against the door. "LET ME OUT!" She shouted, kicking it.

"Damn she's strong." Dean muttered as they walked back down the hallway. He was rubbing his abdomen. "Stronger than she looks."

"Or you're weaker than you think." Crowley noted. Dean shot him a scowl. Her vicious kicking and shouting could still be heard as they made their way to the library.

"I do not like restraining her in this manner." Castiel put in, frowning as he looked back over his shoulder.

"Hey, I don't like it any more than you do, but we all know that a witch job isn't any place for someone who's got no experience hunting." Dean replied. "Besides, give us an hour's head start and then you can play hero and let her out."

"I'll pack a bag." Sam announced, peeling off from the trio down a hallway.

"Pack lots of deadman's blood." Dean called after him. "And machetes!"

Crowley stepped past the remaining pair and pivoted gracefully on his heel to face them. "I'll meet you there." He informed them.

"Why not just pop us all over there?" Dean growled, throwing his arms out to the sides angrily.

The demon gave a cocky shrug. "Because I don't want to."

With a snap, he disappeared, and Dean gritted his teeth before turning to Castiel. "Ok, so let her out in an hour. Hopefully she'll have calmed down a bit by then."

The angel looked a bit worried. "What if she is still angry?"

Dean shrugged. "Then give her chocolate and hope that we get back quickly."

"Ready." Said Sam, returning. He looked about. "Where's Crowley?"

"Meeting us there." Dean replied curtly. He turned to make his way up the stairs. "Keep an eye on her, Cas. We're counting on you."

Sam put a reassuring hand on the angel's shoulder, who's expression still held concern and confusion. "You'll be fine." He told him, dropping his hand and following his brother up the stairs.

Castiel watched them leave with a complicated expression. When the door latched shut, he sighed heavily, looking about.

... ... ... ...

Alexandra slammed the flat of her hands against the door again, giving a frustrated grunt. Just for good measure, she weakly kicked the sturdy door, sighing exasperatedly.

"Quite the show you put on, love." Came a voice from behind her.

Spinning, she glared angrily at the King of Hell. "Let me out of here." She demanded.

He shook his head. "No can do, buttercup." He replied, tucking his hands into his pockets and pacing closer. "The boys may be idiots but in this instance they are right in leaving you behind." He paused, looking up at her. "It's not safe."

"It's no less safe for me than it is for any of you guys!" She shot back.

He eyed her, obviously amused. "I'm the King of Hell darling. And the Winchesters have years of experience hunting witches and vampires." The demon returned. "For all their faults as hapless morons, they do know the best way to kill all the nasties of the world. And they are very good at it." He pointed one finger at her "Though if you ever claim I said as much, I'll cut out your tongue."

She scoffed, stomping over and sitting on the edge of the bed with a huff. "If you didn't come to let me out, then go away." She growled.

He raised his hands, palms out. "Of course. I was just leaving." He gestured to the closet. "However, I left some more gifts for you." Another coy, cocky smile. "Enjoy, love. I'll be back quick as a wink."

And with that he was gone again. She scowled at the empty air where he had just stood before slowly standing again and wandering over to the closet. Opening the worn wooden doors, she found the previously empty wardrobe now stuffed full. Shirts, pants, dresses, skirts, and shoes filled the small closet to the brim. She noticed the drawers underneath looked slightly ajar, and when she pulled them open, she discovered various undergarments, from bras and panty hoes to stockings and underwear.

 _'Damn he's thorough.'_ she thought silently to herself. She indulged briefly in the image of the King of Hell underwear shopping in a department store and chuckled quietly to herself. ' _Seriously doubtful he himself actually did the leg work_ ' she mused as she pulled out a matching bra and panty set before shuffling through the hanging clothes. Picking out a comfortable looking tank top and some jeans, she quickly changed before checking herself in the mirror. At least she looked a bit more like a girl now. Her gaze lingered over a few elegant dresses tucked into the back of the dresser, curious when she might ever get a chance to wear things like that. As she studied the clothes again, she realized that most of the items were blue. _'So that's what he was thinking'_ she noted, sighing heavily and rolling her eyes as she closed the doors loudly.

Stomping back over to the bed, she sat down and crossed her arms angrily. It wasn't fair that she got left behind on a mission that might actually solve all her problems. What if the witch knew something, but couldn't do anything because she wasn't there? Or what if the boys accidentally killed her before she told them anything because she saw them as a threat? Or what if the witch gave them a solution, but they weren't willing to do it, so they lied to her and told her there was none? A million and one scenarios like that drifted through her thoughts as she sat there, a frustrated frown still contorting her full lips.

A soft knock echoed through the room, and Alex jumped up from her bed.

"Miss Hart?" Came a soft voice.

"You going to let me out, Castiel?" She called through the door, walking over and leaning close to the frame, straining to hear anything from beyond.

A pause, then "I'm not supposed to open the door for an hour." He replied. "It's only been approximately 45 minutes since they pulled out of the driveway."

"What am I going to do? Run the whole way after them?" She pointed out sourly. "I'm not a child. Let me out."

Another pause. She leaned even closer to the door, listening. "I don't know..." He said finally.

"Come on, Castiel," She begged. "There's not even anything to do in here. At least let me out so I can pace around like a crazy person or keep reading and get caught up on this whole new world."

"I would prefer if you did not become mentally unsound," came the reply "Perhaps you should not pace if that would be the outcome."

Before she could explain that she had been exaggerating, she heard the soft thunk of the lock releasing, and the door slowly swung open. Castiel stood beyond, one hand raised as he used his powers to open her room.

"Could I do that?" Alex asked curiously, studying the angel.

"Do what?" The angel returned, frowning slightly.

"Unlock and open doors without even touching them."

He tilted his head to the side. "Eventually, yes. Right now I believe it is yet beyond you."

"I'm sure Dean and Sam are thankful for that." She said bitterly as she strode past him.

He followed her back down the hall towards the library. "They felt they had no choice. Had there been another option I'm certain they would've chosen it."

"There was." She shot back. "They could have taken me with them–" She cut herself off and sighed. "Sorry. No use whining about it now. Its done and over." She ran one hand through her hair before dropping it to her side as she turned to face him. "Thanks for letting me out."

"I was happy to do so." Castiel replied, giving a small smile.

"What do you want to do now?" She asked him, looking about.

He frowned again. "I'm not sure..." He followed her gaze about the library before settling his own back upon her. "Perhaps your initial suggestion of reading up on the supernatural would be the best use of time."

She sighed again. "Only thing I really can do." She looked over at the massive collection of books lining the shelves. "Any suggestions on where to start?" She asked.

Castiel walked past her and waved one hand. A small pile of old tomes appeared with a thump upon the table before him. "These books give brief outlines and descriptions of monsters, creatures, and powers that exist in the world." He explained. "I believe reading them would be an effective introduction, and then you could continue to read more extensive books after you have gained a basis of knowledge on the subject."

"Great." She half-grumbled, eyeing the massive books in the pile. "What are you going to do while I read?" She looked over at him curiously.

"I will watch you." He answered, eyes never leaving her face.

"...Right...please don't."

He looked confused. "Why not? I was instructed to keep an eye on you while the others are away."

"I don't think you have to be so literal." She noted. "Simply being in the same room as me, or knowing where I am would fulfill that order." She picked up the first book off the stack, settling into one of the armchairs nearby. "It would be weird if you just stared at me the whole time."

"I see..." He said stoically, looking about. He awkwardly shuffled over to another chair and sat down.

Alex opened the book, flipping through the table of contents before skipping towards the end to 'Vampires'. She tried not to notice as her angel babysitter visibly shifted and shuffled a few times; adjusting his coat beneath him, crossing and uncrossing his legs, interlacing his fingers on his lap and then laying them flat upon the arms of the chair. He even stood up and then sat back down.

"Castiel... is something wrong?" She asked finally, looking up from the book.

He cleared his throat. "No... nothing in particular..." He replied, not making direct eye contact with her. "I am just unsure of how to keep an eye on you without...looking at you..."

She turned the page, looking back down at it. "Well, do you know where I am?" ' _Vampires live in family groups called nests'._

He frowned at her question. "Yes. You are sitting right there."

She skimmed the section on vampire weaknesses. "Do you know what I'm doing?"

His brow furrowed more at her question, as if uncertain if there was a trick. "You appear to be reading."

 _'Sever their head from body to kill. And deadman's blood slows them down. Wow, literally a dead man's blood. Not a euphemism.'_ "Am I safe?" She continued.

The angel looked about for a brief moment, before settling his gaze back upon her. "Yes..."

 _'Drink a vampire's blood to turn'_ "Then you have successfully kept an eye on me." She informed him, turning the page. "It's not so much a literal expression as it is a metaphor for guarding and protecting." _'Sensitive to light, extra fang like teeth that extend down when feeding'_ "As long as you know where I am, you can get to me, and you know I'm safe, you're keeping an eye on me." She glanced up from the page about social structure of a nest of vampires. "You don't have to literally be staring at me."

He nodded slowly. "I am aware of this. However, your safe keeping is particularly important to the future of the world as we know it. I feel obligated to take the expression more literally."

"Well, you don't have to." She replied, flipping over to 'W' for 'Witch'. "I'd rather you do whatever you would normally do if we were just... hanging out."

"I am afraid I do not generally just...hang.. out..." He said the words slowly, as if they were all but completely foreign to him.

"Just do what you would do when your alone, but do it while you are in the company of another." She told him. _'Hex bags are small spell bags placed on or near a victim to kill or curse'._

"When I am alone, I watch the Netflix, or go to a park..." The angel told her.

"You can watch Netflix. I'm just reading." She encouraged him, but he looked hesitant. "Or we can just talk, if you'd like." She offered.

He looked suddenly bashful. "I'm not sure what I would speak about with the Mother of God."

She shook her head and sighed, turning the page in her book. "I'm not the Mother of God." She paused, biting her lip. "Not yet at least. And up until about a day ago? I was just a regular person. Just trying to survive in the world and figure out my part in it."

"Your destiny is to mother the next God." The angel pointed out.

"Not if I have any say in it." She mumbled under her breath. Castiel's head tilted to the side, but otherwise did not acknowledge the statement. _'Incantation spells..'_ She continued on with her reading, skimming the words greedily. "What about you?"

The angel seemed confused. "What do you mean?"

She looked up from the book briefly. "What do you want to do with your life? Or what do you do with it now?"

That silenced the angel, giving her a few moments to skim the common incantation spells and their various affects. Didn't seem to be much defense against witches, save for a few charms and spells. And just generally avoiding their wrath.

"I am not sure..." Castiel replied slowly, brow furrowed. "I dealt with this dilemma once before, when I was akin to a renegade angel, and again when I was human." One of his hands, resting open palmed on the armchair, slowly balled into a fist. "Dean and Sam have become my brothers. My family." He said, a new determination filling his face. "I will stay with them as long as possible, to keep them safe and to help them to my fullest capacity."

 _'Perfect.'_ She thought, stuffing down maniacal laughter as she chewed on the ease with which the subject had been breeched. "On that note..." She offered, slowly closing the book "Don't you think its a bit odd?"

"I am not sure as to what you are referring."

"This whole witch thing." Alexandra pressed, meeting Castiel's gaze. "How perfect is it that a centuries old witch who would have knowledge about my soul and destiny lives only a few hours away."

"It was very fortunate." Castiel agreed.

"Fortunate?" She echoed "Or planned?"

The angel's brow furrowed, his lips tightened. "Planned?"

She nodded. "I mean, the King of Hell, who would very much like me all to himself, comes sauntering in only a day after we started looking for answers with what seems to be a miracle cure. One that no one thought really existed." Castiel didn't reply. "Doesn't that seem a bit suspicious to you?"

He considered this quietly for another moment. "Her location is suspicious, but Crowley could have had her anywhere in the world and we would've travelled to find her. I would have flown them to her. Placing her so close to the bunker only saves us time and adds suspicion on him. Why would he do that?"

"Maybe." Alex agreed "Or he placed the supposed location of the witch close to the bunker, knowing that Sam and Dean would go alone, _without_ their angel protection, because they didn't need you to bring them." She leaned forward in her seat. "Maybe he knew he wouldn't be strong enough with you there to take them out, but if you stayed behind..."

She dropped off, watching Castiel's face grow more and more concerned as she spoke. He stood up sharply, shaking his head. "He wouldn't dare. If he couldn't hope to out power me, what difference does it make if the Winchesters are out of the picture? Besides, Sam and Dean have dealt with much worse on their hunts. Alone."

"Yeah, but if they aren't informed? If they feel pressed for time and don't get all the facts first?" She pushed "What if Crowley lied, and they are going in prepared for vampires and the witch is in league with a dragon or something? And how susceptible to his manipulations would you be if you were stricken by the grief of their deaths?"

"Dragons would have no reason to work with a witch, and they are all but extinct." He argued, but she could feel his resolve weakening.

"Wait, dragons are real too?" It was just the first thing that had come to mind "Serious-" She stopped herself, waving the notion aside. "Whatever. Look, the point is, it all seems way too easy." She looked at the angel. "Are things usually this easy?"

A grim look settled upon his face. "No. Never." He looked towards the entrance to the bunker. "They will be reaching the witch presently... What could we even do?"

"You could go." She pointed out. He looked over at her. "Foil Crowley's plans. If he's not expecting you to be there, then just showing up might cancel out his ideas."

He was shaking his head before she had even finished speaking. "I can not leave you unguarded. It is equally likely that he believed I would discover his deception and leave you here alone." He began to pace back and forth, his frustration apparent.

"Then take me with you."

"No." He shook his head again "It is too dangerous. Dean and Sam would never forgive me for putting you in peril, nor could I ever forgive myself should you come to harm."

"They could be walking into a trap right now!" She pressed. "You're right, you can't leave me here alone. But you can't abandon them either! There's only one solution."

He bit his lip as he debated her words. His distress was obvious, and she felt a pang of guilt for making him feel that way. Not that anything she said was impossible. Maybe this _was_ an elaborate Crowley plot to kill off the Winchesters. Still, it was cruel to play on his attachment to the brothers to get her there. On the other hand, she had already decided she couldn't trust anyone. Not even the Winchesters, not Castiel. Which meant she had to be there herself to question the witch. And she couldn't do that from here.

"Very well." The angel consented finally. "But as soon as we see that Crowley was not lying, we are coming straight back here." He turned to face her, looking in her eyes. "Agreed?"

She nodded. That would have to do for now. "Agreed."

He reached out two fingers towards her forehead. "Let's go."


	7. On the Hunt

Dean checked his watch exasperatedly. "So we've been on the road for over an hour." He noted "You ready to talk about the elephant in the trunk yet?"

Sam looked up from triple checking the supplies in the pack, glancing over at his brother in the driver's seat. "What do you mean?"

Dean sighed. "Look, keeping secrets from each other is what always gets us in trouble." The older Winchester replied. "First psychic powers, then demon blood, then demon deals... the list goes on, Sammy."

"I'm not keeping any secrets!" Sam scoffed, confused.

Dean rolled his fingers along the top of the steering wheel. "You know something." He replied "Or think you do, at least. _Something's_ on your mind." He gave his brother a brief, knowing look before turning his attention back to the road. "We've been through enough shit that I know when you're overthinking."

Sam didn't answer for a moment, looking out the windshield with his lips drawn tight. "It's just..." He rubbed his face with one hand. "I'm worried. That's all."

"About what?" Dean asked "Alex?"

His brother nodded. "Yeah. I mean, what if we can't find something to stop her 'destiny', or whatever?"

Dean shrugged. "Take her to Lamaze classes?" he joked.

"Seriously, Dean," Sam pressed "If we can't find a solution, she's going to have to become the Mother of God. It just sounds ridiculous! The original God didn't even have a mother, we have no idea what to expect from this. Another Amara baby who eats souls? Another Anti-Christ who's childish beliefs and fears manifest into reality?"

He didn't reply for a moment, then shrugged again. "Maybe we are going about this all wrong."

Sam looked at him curiously. "Maybe we shouldn't be looking for a solution or a stall. Maybe we should be helping her accept it. After all why put off the inevitable?"

Sam scoffed at the notion. "And what, help her pick the father of the next God?"

"Hey, I'm just saying, that's what it might come down to." Dean retorted "Unless you want to kill her. You know, before she becomes too powerful for anyone to stop."

He was already shaking his head before Dean had finished. "No. There's no way. She's just an innocent girl. She didn't pick any of this."

"Regardless if she picked it or not, we don't know what kind of power she'll have or what she'll choose to do with it." Dean's face had become hard, with tight lines around his eyes and lips. "Like you said, what if she or her kid end up destroying the world? What if her kid decides he wants to start his own creation from scratch and wipes out the entire human race?"

"And what if they make the world a better place?" Sam shot back. "What if he finds a way to end the suffering in the world, a way to make everyone happier?"

"And the world will be all rainbows and sunshine." Growled Dean sarcastically. He glanced at a passing road sign. HASTINGS, NEBRASKA; 40 MILES. "Nothing's ever that easy, Sammy. Not while people still have their freedom."

"Well, the tablet God left behind says there has to be a Light and Darkness, like him and his sister. Or else the world will just cease to be."

"Then he can get his lazy ass back here and take care of his own damn creation." Snapped Dean. "No replacement necessary. He should be taking responsibility for what he made!"

"He's got desires and needs, just like us." Sam argued. "Shouldn't he be allowed to do what he wants? And he's not abandoning us, he left a way for us to continue being as we are." He shrugged "I guess he figures since we've survived so long without him anyway..."

"So you agree." Dean turned off the highway onto an off ramp. "We've got to help her accept that having this kid is her only option."

Sam sighed. "I want her to make her own choice. If having a God is what she wants in the end, then yeah, I'll find a way to make it work. But if she doesn't want that kind of responsibility?" He dropped off momentarily "I'd like to give her the option."

Dean smirked. "Who knows. Maybe she'll pick you to be the father." He teased.

Sam punched him in the shoulder. "You'd rather she pick you."

He chuckled nervously. "Yeah. Me, dad of the year." He shook his head. "I'd mess that kid up so bad, the world would never be the same."

"Doubt I'd be any better." Sam sighed. He pinched the brow of his nose. "I can't imagine anyone being up to the job."

Dean started digging around in his pocket. "Yeah well, let's see if this witch knows anything that might help buy us some time at least." Pulling out his cell phone, he scrolled down to 666 before pressing the call button. It rang twice before someone picked up. "Hey, Crowley. We're just outside of Hastings. Where's the bitch's burrow?"

"You aren't far now." Came the answer from the backseat. Dean nearly swerved off the road.

"GOD DAMNIT!" he snapped, chucking his phone to the floor. "Give us some warning, asshole!"

Crowley tucked his phone back into his suit pocket. "Sorry. I forgot you were PMSing. I'll try to be more sensitive next time."

"And why couldn't you just take us to the place yourself?" Sam growled, one thumb tracing the hilt of the demon knife.

The demon shot him a dirty scowl. "Because I don't much like you two anymore. Nor do I trust you." He straightened the lapels on his coat. "Besides, someone had to scope the place out before you got here. The witch has about ten fangs on her payroll. Seven on patrols outside, three guarding her inside." He shrugged. "Give or take a few."

"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Dean growled as he turned down a side road Crowley gestured to.

"You don't." He replied. "However, if you want to return to Miss Hart and explain how you decided to run home with your tail between your legs rather than chance the danger, be my guest." He grinned wickedly. "I'd love for her to come running to me to help solve her problems."

"Back off Crowley." Dean snarled "Before I make you."

The King of Hell grinned. "I'd love to see you try."

"Alright, stow it you two." Sam interjected. "What's the plan here?"

"Couple hours til nightfall." Dean noted. "We hit the place now, take the fangs by surprise."

"Masterful plan." Crowley noted sarcastically. "Can't see how it could possibly go wrong."

"How are the vamps patrolling the property during the day?" Sam asked as they took another turn.

"Another enchantment by the witch. Some sort of supernatural sunscreen." The demon replied. "All the vampires reek of it, and it allows them to move somewhat more freely during the daylight hours."

"Why does this brod even need a nest of vamps?" Dean asked. "What is she afraid of? Or what is she guarding?"

Crowley shrugged. "Maybe she's got a few treasures hidden away. Perhaps something we'll find useful. Pull off over here." He gestured to a small, vacant lot. "Though my sources tell me that she's not really very popular with the Grand Coven." He popped open his door and climbed out of the parked vehicle.

Sam climbed out of the passenger side. "Great. So she's already on high alert for intruders." He tossed a machete to Dean, pulling out one himself as well as a bottle of dark, congealing blood before shouldering the pack.

"Sounds like a blast." Grumbled Dean as Sam poured deadman's blood over his blade before tossing the vial to him. "So we get past the guards, taking out as many as we can. How do we pin down the witch?"

Crowley pulled out what appeared to be an old, worn, purple silk scarf with runes stitched on it in gold. "Thats where this will come in handy."

Dean eyed the scarf. "What, in case she gets chilly?"

"This is an ancient artifact, embroidered with the most powerful witch stopping magic known to mortals." He explained irritatedly. "We drop this on her shoulders, or wrap it around her wrists, and she's powerless."

"Fine. Let's go." Said Sam, tucking a pistol filled with witch killing bullets into his belt.

Dean hoisted up a crossbow to rest on his shoulder, other hand twirling the machete. "Its choppin' time." He said with a grin.

The trio made their way towards the property, just beyond the trees lining the edge of the vacant lot. They crept slowly along the bushes. As they crouched beside a tumbling stone wall, they peered over it at the ancient looking manor, overrun with brush and trees. A small garden grew in the the front, and ominous looking animal bones dangled from the porch. From their position, they could already see three men circling the perimeter in black suits, darting from shadow to shadow.

"Place is warded against demons." Crowley noted, nodding to a rune carved in the door frame. "I'll take care of the blokes out here, you two get yourselves inside." He handed the scarf to Dean. "Be careful with that, it cost an arm and a leg to get." He warned.

Dean rolled his eyes at him.

"Right, once we're inside, we'll find the witch, pin her down, and bring her back out." Sam said as Dean tucked the scarf inside his coat. "Then we'll see what she knows."

The three nodded to each other, then Crowley disappeared with a snap of his fingers. The brothers watched him reappear near the closest vampire. The demon grabbed the monster with one hand and stabbed an angel blade through him with the other. As the beast fell to his knees, Crowley swiped off his head with one swing, then blinked back out. They heard another soft thump and scuffle as he took out yet another.

"Let's go." Said Dean. He jumped over the small wall and jogged, doubled over, towards the house.

Sam followed close behind, eyes scanning the property. Just as they came up to the porch, the front door opened. Swiftly, Dean drew his crossbow and fired two arrows dipped in deadman's blood into the emerging vamp's neck. The beast hissed as it fell, but the sound was quickly silenced as Sam chopped of his head with his machete.

They ducked into the house, both instinctually pressing their backs against opposite walls and side stepping quietly down the hallway beyond. They kept their weapons ready, Sam trading his machete to his other hand and drawing the pistol with witch killing bullets. Slowly they crept down the hall, and the further they got the more distinct a distant sound became. At first it sounded like chimes, but as they drew closer, it became the melodic ping of the keys on a piano. The brothers exchanged looks, each one sweeping the small rooms they passed. Didn't want to leave any enemies behind to block them in. Dean dropped another vamp standing at the base of a grand stairwell, and the brothers passed towards the room in the center of the house.

They rounded the corner, and found two large vampires stood at either side of a set of open double doors. Dean shot two arrows into each, and the pair staggered towards the brothers angrily. Slowed down by the deadman's blood, they were no match for the hunters.

As their bodies hit the floor with a soft thud, the piano suddenly stopped. The brothers stalked quickly and quietly down the hallway to the door the vampires had been standing at. A soft creaking sound resided from inside, and they nodded to each other.

As one, they spun into the room, Dean with his crossbow raised, Sam with his pistol. But the room, a decadent chamber with tall windows, bookshelves, and a grand piano at its center, appeared empty. They swept from side to side, checking each corner, looking up and down as they slowly stepped into the room.

"Hunters, hmm?" Came a cold voice from behind them.

They spun, but before they could reorient themselves, the pair went flying to opposite ends of the room. In the toss, they both lost their weapons, but the pistol and crossbow darted back out of their reach as soon as they rolled for them.

"Enough of this." Growled the witch, a silver haired woman with dark olive skin and piercing green eyes. Her skin looked like worn leather, and she wore a deep emerald and gold dress draped over her thin frame. Charms and bracelets jingled as she moved towards the center of the room, arms still extended warningly. "Why can't you fools leave well enough alone?"

A dark skinned man shadowed her from the hallway, his eyes glazed over, fangs extended. He stood at her shoulder like a silent statue.

"We just have a few questions." Sam said, slowly raising onto his feet, palms out.

"Hardly." She growled back, brushing her hair over her shoulder. Sam noticed what appeared to be vampire fangs in a pendant around her neck. "You already butchered half my pets." She motioned to the man beside her, who kneeled down at her gesture. Slowly the witch stroked his shaved head. Her other hand absent-mindedly stroked the fang pendant. "Good help is hard to come by."

Sam glanced at his gun, a few feet to his right. Dean was slowly rising up off the ground too. "We were told you might know something about souls." He pressed, trying to pull the witch's focus to him.

She did glance at him, and both brothers inched closer. "We'd be willing to make a deal." Dean offered, holding out his palms almost innocently.

She scoffed at the notion. "Like I could trust the word of a hunter. Even now you'd like nothing more than to impale me upon your sword." She grumbled. If she was concerned about their approach, she didn't show it. Arrogance and confidence swept off her in waves, and the brothers both sensed it. She stroked the top of her 'pet's' head again, looking thoughtful. "What about souls?" She asked curiously.

"We need to know if we can contain one." Sam explained, trying to appear nonchalant as he walked closer to her.

She swept her hand up, murmuring a soft word, and the taller hunter slid backwards on the worn wooden floor. "That's close enough, Winchester." At their sudden surprised looks, she laughed. "Don't think I wouldn't recognize the infamous Winchesters. Foolhardy apes, if you ask me. Daring to step into the house of Moira."

"Look lady, if you can't help us, just say so." Growled Dean impatiently. "I doubt you're even powerful enough to do anything even if you knew how."

"Not powerful enough?!" She cried indignantly. Flicking her wrist, she sent Dean spinning backwards to hit the opposite wall. He grunted as he solidly connected with it.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as his brother crumpled to the floor.

"Don't insult me." Moira hissed. "I'm more powerful than the entire Grand Coven combined. There isn't a witch alive who knows more about the craft than I. And magic of the souls happens to be my specialty."

Dean spat a mouthful of blood to the floor. "Oh yeah? Prove it."

She smirked. "No need to prove myself to a dead man." She turned towards Sam. "Youngest first?"

She extended her hand towards the younger Winchester, murmuring softly under her breath. Her fingers began to glow as she extended them slowly outwards from her palm, and Sam felt his entire body tighten. Slowly it began to lift off the floor, and he stifled cries of pain as his insides felt like they were beginning to bubble.

Dean lunged forward "You bitch!" He shouted.

He was stopped mid lunge by her other hand and a single word, and she smiled at him. Keeping Sam dangling in the air, she approached Dean with a smug expression on her worn face. Standing close enough to nearly touch their noses together, she stroked his cheek with her free hand.

"Remember you manners now, darling." She scolded softly. "Your turn will come soon enough."

"So will yours." The older Winchester snapped, and used all his strength to lift his arm and drop the scarf in his hand about her shoulders.

There was a sudden gush of air to both their lungs as they dropped to the ground, magic suddenly released from them.

"What's this?" Cried Moira, reaching up to try and pull the scarf off her shoulders. As soon as her fingers touched it, however, they sizzled and burned and she cried out in pain.

"Well, I guess Crowley's not entirely useless." Breathed Dean, straightening up.

The old witch spun at him, a snarl on her lips. "It's not over yet. Hanson!" She snapped. The vampire rose suddenly from his kneeling position. "Kill them!" Moira ordered, slowly sinking to the floor as the weight of the scarf pulled at her.

The vampire swept one hand up, and tossed Sam back against the opposite wall. "What the hell?" Snapped Dean, before he went flying too.

Moira laughed. "I imbued my bodyguard with a few extras." She teased as Hanson strode towards Sam, his steps crunching the floorboards under his feet. Dean was already scrambling towards his crossbow. He unloaded a few arrows into the monster's back, but he didn't even flinch. Reaching down, he wrapped his hands around Sam's neck, hoisting him off the floor.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, searching desperately for his machete.

"Dean!" Sam gasped. "The necklace! Look at her necklace!"

Dean spun, running over to the witch. He grabbed the fang pendant from her neck.

"NO!" She shouted. But it was too late. Dean smashed the talisman into the ground where it shattered.

Hanson suddenly dropped the Winchester he was holding, spinning. His eyes, previously so glazed over, now sparked with life as he faced his previous captor. Rage filled his face and he barred his fangs with a hiss.

"You fucking bitch!" He snarled, and swept his hand out. The witch went flying, crashing into the piano which clanged awfully at the impact. She cried out in pain again, but with the scarf still around her neck, she was powerless to stop him.

Sam charged at him with his machete, but the juiced up vampire simply swept his hand and Sam went flying into a giant vase set against a wooden pillar. Dean fired more arrows at Hanson. This time he snarled, flinching as the arrows landed home on his shoulder and neck. But with another sweep of his hand, he sent Dean flying into the bookshelves. Sam slowly clambered up, gasping for breath, shards tumbling off him. He staggered and fell back to his knees. Dean tried to untangle himself from the piles of books that began tumbling down on top of him. Ignoring the hunters, the vampire strode towards the witch. He grabbed her by the neck, hoisting her up as she gasped and struggled for air.

"Now you'll suffer, as I did. As my family did. For centuries!" He growled. "We are not your mindless pets, you fucking hag!"

Sam ran at the vampire, slamming his body against him. Hanson staggered, dropping the witch into a heap on the floor. Snarling, he spun at Sam, kicking him with magically enhanced strength. Sam buckled over, spitting blood. The vamp kicked him again, but Dean leapt onto his back, trying to draw a knife across his neck, but only nicking his forehead as the man thrashed. Roaring, the vamp twisted, dropping the hunter off his back. He picked up the knife Dean had dropped, slowly approaching him. Blood dripped down from the cut on his forehead, covering his ears, rolling down his chin.

"Now you'll die too." He snarled, grabbing the front of Dean's shirt with one hand, hoisting him up. His other hand raised the knife, pressing it against his throat.

Suddenly, his eyes and mouth shot open wide, shock filling his face. A moment later, with a grunt, the machete chopped through the super powered vamp's neck again. His head listed to one side, hanging on by a few threads. His hand weakened and slowly he fell to the floor.

"Damn. That looks much easier in the movies." Breathed a familiar feminine voice.

"ALEX!" Shouted Dean, surprised.

The blonde stood holding the older Winchester's machete, her face splattered with blood. She looked down at the bloody body at her feet, her face a few shades paler than usual.

"Alex!" Cried Sam, slowly trying to climb to his feet. She dropped the sword to the floor with a clang and tucked herself under Sam's arm, helping him up. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought you guys might be in trouble." She grunted as she helped him stand.

"How the hell did you get here?" Snarled Dean, clutching his ribs. "Where's Cas?"

"Outside." She said, helping Sam over to a beam so that he could lean against it. "Apparently there's some kinda anti-angel/demon warding on the place."

"God damnit!" He growled, anger filling his face.

A soft moan drew the three humans' attention back to the witch in a broken mess atop the piano. Blood was dripping from her ears and the corners of her mouth, and her neck was already turning black and blue. Dean approached her cautiously. But the scarf was still around her neck, and it quickly became apparent the dying witch was no threat.

"Hey, hey!" He said, gripping her shoulder. "Stay with me now."

She chuckled darkly. "What do you care if I die, hunter?" She grumbled in a strained voice. "You were here to kill me anyway." Her piercing green eyes drifted over to Alex behind him. "So...that's the soul."

They all looked surprised. "You know who she is?" Asked Dean sternly. Alex stepped a bit closer, bending closer to the old witch.

"Even if I was blind, I'd know who she was." Moira breathed, before falling into a wheezing, coughing fit. Pity filled the girl's heart, and she stepped around Dean, reaching for the woman's hand. The witch seemed taken aback by the gesture, and looked at her with curious eyes.

"It's ok, we're going to get you some help." The younger woman reassured the witch.

Piercing eyes seemed baffled and confused by the girl's kindness, but a bemused smile settled upon her lips. "I am beyond help, my dear. Death already has me."

"Wait." Sam groaned. The witch glanced at him. "Can you help Alex at all?" Sam asked, hobbling over.

"Help _her_?" Grunted the witch, looking back to the girl. "She's more powerful than anyone I've ever seen before. My magic wouldn't even tickle her."

Dean looked between the two. "We want to lock her soul in. Or buy us more time." He pressed. "Something to keep the world from sensing it just yet."

The witch looked away from the speaking brother, settling her gaze back upon Alex. "I'm sorry, my child." She coughed, weakly squeezing her hand. "I don't believe there is a power in all of creation strong enough to contain you." Disappoint threatened to crush Alex's chest. She bit her lip to keep tears from spilling over. "Don't despair." Murmured the witch, squeezing her hand again. "You are unique. One of a kind. Never has there ever been anything like you, and there will never be anything like you ever again. From the beginning of time until the end. Your mere presence makes me question my whole life." A weak smile creased her paling lips. "Do not for a second believe that your soul is a curse. It is a gift..." Her hand became lighter in Alex's, and her eyes became to glaze over. "I am ….. honored to... have seen it..."

Alex gently caressed the old witch's hand as the life faded from her body. Tears threatened to spill out of the corners of her eyes, but she swallowed hard. Gently she placed the witch's hand atop her chest before reaching up and closing her eyes.

They stood in silence for a moment, then Dean reached down, gently unwrapping the scarf off the witch's neck. Tucking it into his pocket, he tugged at Alex's arm. "Let's go." He demanded firmly. There was no room for argument in his words, nor did she have the strength to resist.

Quietly she followed the brothers out of the house. Neither said a word, both staggering and nursing their injuries as they moved forward laboredly.

As they drew closer to the main door, shouting could be heard from outside. Concern laced the brothers' faces, but Alex merely rolled her eyes.

"Why would you ever THINK it would be ok to bring her here, numb nuts?!"

"If our partnership with you in the past proved any lesson, I had no reason to trust your word."

"So bring the most powerful soul in the world to a house infested with vampires and a powerful SOUL WIELDING WITCH! That makes sense!"

"I was not leaving her without protection at the bunker!"

"Then at least have the common sense to STOP her BEFORE she goes running into the house that NEITHER of us can enter!"

"Had a certain someone properly informed me that the house of the witch was angel warded–"

"Un-FREAKING-believable! You stubborn, arrogant, self-centered little–"

"Press your luck, you filthy, uncouth, putrid–"

"Hey hey HEY!" Shouted Dean as they staggered onto the porch.

"Dean!" Castiel breathed with relief. "Sam! Alex!" He looked pale with worry.

"Cas, what the hell?!" Snapped Dean as he slowly faltered down the steps. "I told you to keep an eye on her, to keep her safe!" Anger filled her voice. "Is this you keeping her safe?"

Alex helped Sam down the steps as best she could. Crowley walked over to her, looking her up and down. She turned to him as Sam leaned against the railing for support.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked sternly. His eyes traced the blood on her face and neck, and he reached out one hand to touch it.

"I'm fine." She told him. When she saw his fingers come back red from her face she wiped her arm across her cheek. "Not my blood." She looked down at the crimson liquid smeared on her arm.

"I'm sorry Dean," Castiel was saying behind them. "I was worried that Crowley was attempting a coup–"

"So bring the one thing he wants most right to him." Dean shot back. "Good thinking, Cas."

"Dean, stop." Sam breathed, hoisting himself upright. "Cas feels bad enough."

"Good!" Growled the other Winchester. "He should feel like absolute crap bringing an inexperienced girl to a house filled with witches and vampires that he can't even enter!"

"It's not his fault." Alex chimed in to Castiel's defense. "I convinced him that Crowley might be up to something, and that we should come and check."

"Oh, so you were outsmarted, is that it?" Dean snarled.

Castiel looked hurt and guilty. He reached out one hand towards him. "Dean, let me heal–"

"No no. I don't want anything from you." Dean interrupted angrily, pushing his hand away. "I gave you a job, and you didn't do it." Then he spun, facing his full rage at Alexandra. "And YOU! What were YOU thinking? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"I saved your life!" She snapped back angrily. "Had I not shown up when I did, you would've been shish kabobbed at the end of your own knife!"

"We had it completely under control!"

Sam scoffed behind him, dragging himself over. "Dean, relax. Its over. We're all fine." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let's just get back to the bunker and we can all cool down there."

Dean ripped his shoulder from Sam's hold and stomped off, still muttering angrily. Sam sighed, cradling his ribs with one hand. Castiel walked over to him, face coated heavily with regret and guilt.

"Sam, I am so sorry." He said, and gingerly, hopefully, extended one hand towards the younger Winchester. Sam nodded, and with a warm flash, the angel healed him.

"Look, I'm not saying you weren't wrong in bringing her here," Sam started, straightening up and rubbing the back of his neck. "You shouldn't have. She could've been killed...But I'm not sure how we would've gotten out of that one if you hadn't." He looked over at Alex, who still stood forlornly by the porch. "Thanks for saving us... Sorry it didn't pan out the way we wanted."

"What did the witch say?" Crowley asked curiously.

Alex shook her head, staring down at the ground. She strode past the group, after Dean who was already into the woods headed towards the Impala. Her throat felt dry and tight, and she frantically blinked back tears. It was stupid. Stupid of her to put all her hopes into this. She knew it might not be what she was looking for. But still, disappointment and despair filled her to the brim.

Behind her, the remaining three lingered.

"Moira said there was nothing she could do." Sam explained. "Actually, she said there was no power in the world strong enough to contain Alex."

Castiel looked after the girl. "I see. She is... disappointed."

"Crushed, more likely." Crowley corrected.

Sam sighed. "We'll just have to keep looking."

The demon rolled his eyes. "When are you louts going to give up?" He sneered "Moira was one of the oldest, most powerful witches still alive in the world, and she _specialized_ in soul magic. If she didn't think it could be done, why should we believe it can be?"

"We'll just keep looking." Sam repeated firmly.

Castiel nodded solemnly, and Crowley rolled his eyes. The three began to make their way back to the Impala too.

…... …... ….

"Son of a... useless piece of...can't even..." grumbled Dean to himself as he packed up the trunk with the things from the hunt. Slamming the hood down, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. His whole body was aching and sore. There were more than just a few cuts and bruises. But he'd be damned before he let Castiel heal him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex standing at the treeline. "HEY!" He shouted over to her. "Get over here. I've got a bone to pick with you." Alex didn't move, still leaning against a tree, staring at the ground. "I'm TALKING to you!" Dean snapped, stomping over, wincing in pain. "Although I don't know why I bother, because you obviously don't listen!"

He stopped, standing looming over her. Her head was still dropped, and she didn't even flinch when he shoved her shoulder.

"This line of work, its dangerous." He growled. "I've been training since I was a kid to deal with this shit, and even that doesn't guarantee my safety. I'm not trying to keep you out of the loop or trying to take all the glory" He bumped her shoulder with his fist again. "I'm trying to keep you safe. I've lost a lot of people. My whole family, my friends," As he spoke, he felt the anger slowly leaving him "Innocent people. And I don't want to see you get hurt or killed because of me. What's worse is you put Castiel in a hot seat, convincing him to take you here. You took advantage of him, betrayed his trust. You hurt him a lot with this stupid stunt too. You could've gotten _him_ killed." Alex hadn't lifted her head up. "Hey! Are you listening to me?" He grabbed both her shoulders and shook her. "Look at me, damnit!"

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his, and her face made his words catch in his throat. Her eyes seemed so full they might as well be the ocean. As he looked down at her, seeing her absolute defeated despair, he sighed heavily.

"Aw damnit... Come here." He mumbled, and he wrapped his arms around her. At first, she stiffened, but then she gave in, burying her face in his chest. He squeezed her gently, rubbing her back. "It's going to be ok. We'll figure something out."

She kept the tears in somehow. Just barely. But as she breathed in Dean's warm, musky scent, she couldn't help but feel a stabbing pain in her chest. Would she never be ale to be close to a guy again? Never be able to trust anyone's feelings for her? Oh god, how she missed being held like this. Learning everything there was to know about a person, from every inch of their skin to every piece of their soul. Would she ever be able to do that again? Or would it all just be a lie? Just her soul trying so desperately to fulfill its destiny? She wrapped her arms around him gently, never wanting to let go.

 _'Do not for a second believe that your soul is a curse.'_ The witch's words echoed in her mind. _'It is a gift...'_

Sniffling and wiping at her nose, she pulled out of Dean's embrace. "Sorry." She mumbled. As soon as he stepped back, she already missed his touch. Missed his warmth. His strong arms. Her heart ached painfully, but she bit it back.

"Hey, don't worry about it." He reassured her softly, resting one hand on her shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure something out. Hey," He bent down to catch her gaze with his "We will. I promise."

She smiled weakly. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the other three came over then, stomping through the thicket. He turned to face them, face still stern, but the anger was gone. He rubbed the back of his neck as Castiel approached.

"Hey Cas, I'm sorry." He half-muttered. "I know you were just worried about us. And I'm sure had the roles been reversed, I would've done the same thing as you."

Castiel's guilty face lit up a little, and he gave the smallest of smiles. "I am sorry too. I should not have let my own fears persuade my better judgement."

Alex shuffled her feet. "I'm sorry that I played on those fears." She told him, face forlorn. "I just... I really wanted to be here. I wanted to hear what the witch had to say."

The angel looked at her for a moment, but nodded. "I understand. I accept your apology."

"Really? Is the emotional sharing over now?" Crowley asked with distain. "I think I might be sick." The other men glared at him angrily. "I've got an apology too. I'm sorry you are all such complete _morons_ who can't even finish a simple job properly." He looked over at Alexandra. "Really, I don't know how you put up with them."

"Let's get back to the bunker." Sam put in before anyone could start fighting again.

"I think the girl should come with me." Crowley declared as the others started making their way towards the Impala.

"Still not happening." Dean growled, shooting the demon a dirty look.

"Well, obviously you imbeciles are incapable of keeping her safe." He pointed out. "So I think I should get the opportunity."

"Don't worry about it." Alex said dejectedly as Dean opened his mouth to reply. She walked past the others towards the impala. "I don't think I'll be going on a hunt ever again. Might as well lock me away."

That silenced the others, who looked between each other with surprise. Sam skipped forward a few steps to catch up to her.

"Are you ok?" He asked. When she didn't stop, he reached out and caught her shoulder. "Hey, seriously. What's the matter?"

"Nothing." She breathed. "I'm fine." She brushed his hand off her shoulder and climbed into the backseat of the Impala.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Castiel's face was drawn with confusion, while Crowley's looked smug.

"Looks like I might be winning after all." He crooned, lifting his hand. "See you boys soon." And with a snap of his fingers he disappeared.

Shaking his head, Dean turned to Castiel. "Get us home, Cas."


	8. Pick Me Up

Sam knocked lightly on the door of room 610 with the knuckles of one hand. "Alex?" He called softly. "You still there?"

He waited quietly for a moment, ear against the door. In his other hand, he held a small dish with a cheeseburger and a pickle, as well as a small pile of chips. When there was no answer, he knocked again.

"Hey. Can I come in? I've got food..."

Still no reply. Carefully, Sam jiggled the handle. But the door was barricaded from the other side. The Winchester sighed heavily, his face a complicated expression of contemplation as he considered the worn old door. He knocked once more, a little louder. Beyond the wood, he thought he heard the shuffling of sheets and the creak of the bed.

"...I'm going to leave this out here for you." He told her softly. Slowly he crouched down, picking up a plate with a grilled cheese and tomato soup that had long since gone cold and replacing it with the fresh burger. He looked down at the uneaten, abandoned food, then back at the door. "..." He opened his mouth to say more but then simply closed it. Turning, he walked back down the hallway.

When he got back to the library, Dean looked up from his book, legs propped up on the table. "Any luck?" He asked, his tone both hopeful and stale.

Sam dropped the plate with the grilled cheese on the table in answer, pulling out a chair and sitting down with a huff. "I don't know what else to try."

Dean considered the cold sandwich. "I say we break the door down." he replied with a shrug, reaching out and plucking up the grilled cheese.

"If she wanted to see us, she would not have blocked the door." Castiel pointed out, wandering back over to the table with a few files in his hands. Placing them on the table amid the mess of others, he looked at the brothers.

Dean waved his hand at the angel. "No one really ever _wants_ to see us. But she's been locked in there almost a whole day now." He tossed the book in his hands aside and swung his feet back to the floor. "She's stewing. And you shouldn't let people stew. They get all kinds of messy bad ideas in their heads."

"Well, can you blame her?" Sam scoffed "She basically just confirmed her worst nightmare; all the dreams and plans she had can never happen." He rubbed one big hand through his long, dark copper hair. "Imagine being told you only have one option for how to live your life. No ifs, ands, or buts."

Dean took a massive bite out of the sandwich. "Fine." He growled around his mouthful. "We'll give her a few more hours. Then we'll bust down the door... Or she'll come out to pee." He smirked "She can't hold it in forever."

Sam shook his head at his brother, rolling his eyes.

…... …... …...

Her finger hovered over the send button, red-rimmed eyes quivering as she re-read the email to her parents for the hundredth time. On the worn, cracked screen of the iPod, the tiny paragraph seemed huge. But she knew if she did send it, it would leave more questions than answers.

Sighing, she tossed the iPod away, and dropped her face back into the scratchy sheets, pulling the covers over her head. Again she debated going out and talking to the boys. Seeing if they had found anything. Though she knew if they had they would have told her. Anything to get her out of the room.

Her whole body felt heavy, as if her bones had turned to solid lead. Ever since they had returned to the bunker the previous day, she hadn't left the tiny little closet sized bedroom. She just... didn't feel like it. Didn't feel like seeing anyone. Didn't feel like talking. She just wanted to be alone. A tiny part of her felt bad, especially the few times Sam had come knocking with food. And the one time Castiel had come, asking her if there was anything he could do. But there was nothing any of them could do. And the guilt she felt was never enough to make her drag her weighted body out of the bed. Part of her never wanted to leave it again.

"What's the matter love, witches got you down?" came a cool, smoky voice that had become irritatingly familiar.

"Go away Crowley." She grumbled from under her sheets. For added measure, she pulled a pillow from the top of the bed and squished it over her head. So much for being alone.

"And let you wallow in self pity?" Came the reply "Seems like what you need is a cheer-me-up."

She heard the soft snap of his fingers, and then the sound of gulls and crashing waves reached her ears. Surprised, she peeked out from under the nest she had made herself. The smell of salt filled her nose, and she had to blink a few times at the bright light that flooded her vision. A breeze tickled at her cheeks and as her eyes adjusted, tall, honey-colored grass filled her view. Slowly she sat up, curiosity mingling with her surprise. The heavy comforter lingered about her shoulders as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Less than a dozen yards away the swaying grasses gave way to open air; a cliff overhanging an enchanting ocean bay. Dazed by the sight, she felt the blanket fall away from her as she slowly slipped her bare feet to the soft ground. The long grass reached up to her waist, and slowly she waded through it, closer to the edge. As she moved, the stalks slowly became shorter and shorter, until they gave way to strands hardly taller than her knees. She stopped a few paces from the edge of the cliff, and a gust of wind swept up behind her, catching her long hair and whipping it past her face. A sapphire and emerald ocean stretched before her, with a few villas dotting the adjoining cliffs, and a rocky beach sweeping below, waves crashing rhythmically against it.

"Where are we?" She asked softly, hardly able to soak in the natural beauty of the place.

"France." Stated Crowley simply, who had quietly shadowed her as she took in the view. "On the island of Corsica." He slowly moved to stand beside her, hands in the pockets of his dress coat. He glanced quickly over the horizon before looking back over at his companion. "You mentioned you preferred the outdoors."

"Yeah..." she breathed, still awestruck. It was hard to believe how her heavy bones had felt just a few moments before. At that moment, had Crowley said she could fly, she would've believed him.

She glanced back over her shoulder, almost laughing at how completely out of place the full-sized bed with dark grey sheets appeared amid the swaying amber grasses. Then again, the pair of them probably looked a bit ridiculous too. Her in loose black capris and a blue tank top, him in a black suit with a soft grey and red tie and long dress coat. She looked over at him and found his grey-green eyes watching her.

"What?" she asked, suddenly a bit self conscious, dropping her eyes down. She crossed her hands about herself, rubbing her arms. Although the sun was warm, the cool ocean breeze was certainly chilling.

"Just wondering if I had failed to impress." He commented, drawing off his outer layer. He moved to stand even closer and draped his coat across her shoulders.

She snorted, stiffening first at his gesture, but then grateful for the sudden warmth of the cloth against her bare shoulders. She begrudgingly took it, gripping the edges tightly in an effort to ward off the worst of the chill.

"Thank you." She mumbled, shuffling nervously a bit. The smell of him surrounded her with the fabric; smoke, whiskey, another scent she couldn't place. She sighed. "I _am_ impressed." She relinquished finally, looking back out over the magnificent scene. "It's like a dream..." She watched him out of the corner of her eyes while pretending not to notice him.

"Yes, you are." He returned. She could see him staring at her.

She scoffed. "Wow. Did you rehearse that one?"

"All night." He returned, amused. She felt his hand skimming her lower back, inching him closer to her. "I wanted to be sure to get it... Just... Right..." By the end of his drawn out sentence, his lips were next to her ear, and one hand rested on each of her hips.

She felt her breath catch in her throat. "I...I think you should–"

"Shhhhh" He silenced her, slowly wrapping his arms more tightly about her, "Let me just have this moment." He was so close, she could feel the scruff on his chin and cheek tickling her neck.

Alex felt her jaw clench. "Crowley–"

"Why do you fight me so persistently?" He interrupted, purring in her ear. His voice sent shivers down her spine. "Why don't I deserve your affections?"

"I have no affections to give." She replied, half-heartedly trying to pull away from his grasp. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, keeping her trapped in his arms.

"It has nothing to do with me being a _demon_... does it?" He teased, trailing his lips just above her neck. The sensation of his breath on her skin scattered goosebumps on her arms. "Because I find that racist."

"You're using me." She mumbled dryly. "You would just as soon kill me as help me. Whatever is to your best advantage." She struggled against him in vain once more "For all your honeyed words and sweet gestures, you are a cold, emotionless monster."

He froze at her words, and for a second she thought she could feel the heat of his anger permeating through him. She swallowed nervously.

"What makes you think I'm a monster?" he asked in an unnaturally calm voice.

She suppressed a shiver. "... You're the King of Hell. I doubt you got that title with good deeds and charitable acts."

He chuckled softly, and she could feel it in his chest against her back. "Or perhaps I used my wit..." he traced one hand over her's holding the coat. "... and charm."

She swallowed nervously again. "You said you wouldn't lie to me." She reminded him "The whole truth, no beating around the bush. That's what you said."

He was silent for a moment, and the wind quietly swallowed them, casting their shadows into the sun and playing with their breath. She felt her heart racing like a bird was trapped in her breast. It seemed so loud, she was sure he could hear it, even over the crashing waves.

"I have done numerous things that would warrant the title of monster." He admitted "Though its worth noting the Winchesters and their precious angel have done a lot of horrifying things themselves... not nearly as many as I of course." He added softly, and in her chest she felt a pang as though a string with an anchor had been dropped from her heart into the pit of her stomach. "But does that make me any less deserving of love?"

She gritted her teeth. "You still want me to love you?"

He smiled, she could hear it in the movement of the air through his nose. "Everyone wants to be loved."

The human shook her head in disbelief. "I can't even say the word without a mocking undertone."

"That says more about you than me." Crowley said, dropping his hands and stepping around to stand before her. "And I've learned a lot about you, in this short time we've known each other." He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. "You are stubborn, but grateful." His hand lingered on her face, warm and coarse. "You are young, but wise." His thumb traced her cheek. "You are passionate, but reserved." He stepped closer, carefully holding her gaze. "You believe in everyone and everything except yourself." As he stared at her, she felt her heart begin to race even more.

For a long time, neither said anything. He just stared into her eyes, and she forced herself to hold his gaze, unwavering. Growing more determined with each passing moment.

" _There_ you are, darling." He murmured finally.

He leaned forward, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. But then he dropped his hand and stepped away.

"I have another gift for you." He told her, turning back towards the ocean view.

She frowned, following his gaze. Gulls danced and swooped on the breeze, and soft, puffy clouds drifted across the sky.

"You said you wanted your family to be safe." Crowley reminded her. Her head jerked as she looked at him, startled. He didn't turn to face her again just yet, continuing to stare out across the horizon. "I want you to know I have placed them under my protection. I have demons watching and guarding them 24/7. Ones loyal only to me."

She wasn't sure if the notion of demons watching and guarding her family made her feel better. And she could almost hear the threatening undertone of his gift. They were safe. As long as he wanted them to be. Her lips tightened, and she felt the weighty despair clawing at her heart once more.

"Are they?"

"Are they what, love?" He looked over at her.

"...Safe?"

He nodded. "Very much so. Simply going about their daily lives."

She pulled his coat tighter about her, more from an internalized chill than the actual temperature. "Do they know?" She glanced over at him before dropping her eyes to the ground. "About all this? About where I am?"

"No." He assured her "And It's probably better if we keep it that way. The less they know about you, the less others will target them to find you."

"So where do they think I am?"

"On an impromptu vacation." He explained with a smug look. "With some work friends they've never met. Out of reach by phone and most internet services." He checked his nails "And your work thinks you've quit. What with you being AWOL and all."

She nodded slowly. "...Thank you." She murmured softly.

"Aw love, don't be so morose." He purred, cocky arrogance quickly returning. "It really doesn't suit you."

She gritted her teeth again, her lips pursing. Together, demon and mortal stood, gazing out across the ocean, wind whipping about their hair and ankles. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, her clutching his coat about her, him standing stoically with an unreadable expression upon his face. At that moment, time seemed endless. But finally, she tore her gaze from the beautiful sights and looked back at the bed.

"I should get back." She mustered up, glancing sidelong at the King of Hell.

He reached one hand up, stroking his chin. "As you wish."

With a snap, they were back in the tiny room, the colors seeming even more washed out after the vibrant hues of the French countryside. Alex pulled the long dress coat off her shoulders and held it out to Crowley.

"Even if it was entirely selfish and was merely a manipulative attempt to make me like you more so I'll do what you want... thanks." She told him as he gingerly took back the coat. "It did make me feel a bit better."

He smirked, folding the coat over one arm. "Any time, love. I am at your beck and call."

"Until a better offer comes along." She scoffed.

His smirk widened. "We shall see." And with that and another snap of his fingers, he was gone again.

Alex sighed and looked around the room. The small desk, pushed up against the door, caught her eye. She bit her lip, steeled her will, and slowly pushed the desk back to its originally position. Then she returned to the door, gradually pulling it open. It creaked quietly, and she poked her head out into the hallway. One of the lights flickered, the faint sound of crackling electricity the only sound to be heard. Looking down, Alex saw the plate of food Sam had left. A small, sad smile pulled at her lips, and she bent downing, picking up the dish.

Not long after, she walked barefoot down the hallway with the mostly empty plate. Just the pickle, a few little chip crumbs, and the last few bites of burger left. She shuffled nervously in the entryway to the library, looking at the trio. The three men who were working so hard to try to help her, try to find a way to stop her destiny. They were still trying, she realized with a pang of guilt, looking over the piles of books and papers all over the library. She stood there silently for a moment or two before Castiel looked over as if sensing her presence.

"Alexandra." He breathed, and the brothers turned as one to look at her. Surprise was reflected on all their faces, though it quickly gave way to relief.

"I..." She hesitated, stepping into the room a little further. She looked down at the plate guiltily. "I'm...sorry... for being such a child..."

"You weren't being a child." Sam reassured her. "You …..you got some tough information, and just needed some time alone... to think about it."

"And I did!" She exclaimed, walking slowly over to the table and putting down the plate. "I thought about it a lot. So much that my head hurts... but locking you guys out... that wasn't fair...there were better ways to deal with that and...I mean... after all you've done for me..." she dropped off.

Dean waved his hand and gave a small smile. "Don't worry about it, Blondie." He consoled her "You should see some of the crap we've pulled when we got some tough news."

Sam nodded his agreement, and Alex looked around at the three of them. She wrung her hands, unsure what to say next.

"I am glad you decided to come out of your own free will." Castiel put in. "We were discussing the possibilty of breaking down your door."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Breaking... breaking down the door?" She looked over at the Winchesters "That seems a bit dramatic."

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, gesturing with one hand and stammering a few syllables.

"Well, Dean also mentioned you wouldn't be able to 'hold it in forever'." The angel added "In reference to your need to urinate. And I believe it would be considered indecent to relieve yourself in your –"

"OK! Cas!" Dean hastily stood, silencing the angel. "That's enough out of you."

Sam laughed, standing and walking over to the girl. "We're really happy you decided to join us." He told her "And we are here for you. Whatever you need. Whether thats a roof over your head, someone to talk to, help looking for answers –"

"Or some big guns and muscles to kick some ass," Dean interjected "We're your guys."

"I don't understand why you guys are being so nice to me," Alex began, a small smile forming on her lips "But I really do appreciate it. Thank you."

"Because, like I told you before, we like you." Dean replied. "You're a good person, just fallen on some shitty luck."

"Still... thank you." She repeated.

"Anytime." Sam replied, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder gently.

Castiel wandered closer. "Do you know what it is you wish to do next?" he asked, his deep voice layered with curiosity. The boys looked like they wanted to ask the same question.

Alexandra sighed, running one hand through her long blonde hair. "I'm …. not sure..." She admitted softly. "Part of me says give up, just figure out the next step in this whole God baby thing. Another part says keep looking for a way to stop it... but..." She shrugged tiredly "If I keep putting it off, I'm not sure how much control I'll get to have over it... you know?"

"You're worried if you avoid your destiny for too long looking for a way stop it, you'll miss your chance to actually have a say in how it happens or with who if you don't find a solution in time." Sam concluded. Alex nodded and Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes, that seems a very reasonable fear." Castiel nodded along "When your soul begins to resonate, it will most likely affect your own reasoning and cognitive skills as well as those of potential candidates, pushing you closer to your destiny in a much faster and more direct route."

"...Right...Great... you see my dilemma."

Dean shrugged. "So, what? Keep looking for a solution, but take up speed dating too?"

"Good grief." Alex groaned "Dating is hard enough, without spending the whole time wondering if a guy would make a good father to the new God." She sighed "If only there was a way to narrow down the candidates- Oh fucking hell I can't believe I'm even talking about this."

"Well, I think we should rule out your average joe off the street." Dean offered, smirking. "Can't imagine too many of them would be up to the job."

"So who does that leave? (and please someone stop me this is insane)"

Sam shrugged, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "I'm not sure. Angels? Demons? Hunters, I guess?"

Alex stared at him. "...So basically, Castiel, …..Crowley, ….and you guys?"

"Nono no nono no-" Sam was stuttering before she had even finished talking.

"Nope no nonono Hell no-" Dean.

"I would be honored to be considered-"

"Cas, shut up!"

Sam raised his hands. "I wasn't suggesting us," he clarified "I was just listing potential beings that could be the father, that already know about this world."

"And no demons." Dean declared firmly. "Especially not that arrogant douche-wad."

"Seems like it would be a lot to put on a mortal human... even a hunter..." She sighed.

"Doesn't leave much else except-"

Suddenly Dean was cut off by his phone buzzing and ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out, quickly checking the caller ID. His face became deadly serious and he glanced at Sam as he hit 'answer' and held the phone up to his ear.

"Jody Mills." He said into the receiver, and Sam straightened nervously at the name. "Everything alright?"

The group stayed silent for a moment as the woman on the other end spoke. Alex looked around at the men as she tried to piece together who this 'Jody' was.

"What?... seriously?...Uh-huh...Yeah, no, definitely sounds like our kinda thing... Alright." Dean continued. "No problem, Jody... No no, stay right there. We're on our way." He glanced at his brother "Yeah...ok... See you soon."

"Is she ok?" Sam was asking before he had even fully dropped the phone from his ear.

"Right now, yeah." Dean replied. "But apparently Souix Falls has turned into a desert."

"A... a desert? Like-"

"Like a full-blown sand storms, sweltering temperatures, waters drying up kinda desert." Dean replied. "All in about a week."

"...Does that happen a lot?" Alex asked. "And who's Jody?"

"Surprisingly more often than you'd think." Dean smirked "Jody Mills is the sheriff of Souix Falls, South Dakota. She's kind of a part-time hunter. We've hooked up to take down a few nasties a couple times."

"This sounds like the work of an old religion god." Castiel noted. "We should be able to-"

Dean raised a hand. "No we. Just me and Sam on this one, Cas. If it is a pagan god or a freak dry spell, we can handle it." He looked over at Alex. "You two are staying behind this time. For real."

Castiel followed Dean's gaze, a hardened expression filling his features. Alex nodded pensively. "Ok, whatever you say." She relented, raising her hands a little in the most surrendering manner she could manage. "I don't want to cause any more trouble... but what's that about old gods?" She looked over at Sam "Are there multiple gods?"

"Not technically, no." Sam began, reaching for his coat off the back of his chair. "There is only one God, who created the universe as we know it. But a lot of those ancient pagan gods existed too. In reality, they were powerful monsters and creatures who found their way into human religion and lore. Some thrived off the worship, some needed the rituals to survive."

"And of the ones left, most of them are having a hard time letting go of their former glory." Dean explained, grabbing the pickle off the mostly empty plate.

"We'll deal with this as quick as we can and be back." Sam told her, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder again. "Until then, keep looking for answers. Maybe you and Cas can come up with a way to find the right guy or something new to try."

"And be on standby." Dean added, smacking Cas's shoulder lightly with the back of his hand. "If we need intel on this hunt, we're gonna be calling you."

Castiel nodded. "If it becomes too difficult for you to manage on your own-"

"We'll call you." Sam reassured him, as Dean's mouth was too full of pickle to answer.

"Though a quick lift to Souix Falls might be nice." Dean put in after he swallowed his mouthful.

Castiel nodded again. "I shall come with you to the car then."

The brothers grabbed things as they moved towards the exit. Hardly ten minutes passed between Dean's conversation with Jody and the door slamming behind Castiel as he returned from the driveway.

"They seem to really be used to just...running off at a moment's notice..." Alex noted, her eyes lingering on the door.

"Yes. They have grown accustomed to a life on the road. It was only recently that they set up a more permanent residence here." Castiel told her, looking over the books spread out before him as he rather pointedly avoided her gaze.

"...I'm sorry... again... for, you know..." She mumbled. "I know you probably don't trust me anymore...but for what its worth I swear I'll never try to trick you again..."

The angel didn't say anything for a moment, resting his fingertips lightly on the table while his face furrowed into a frown. Then, he sighed heavily, looking back up at her.

"Despite your recent behavior...I find it hard to remain wary or angry at you." He told her haltingly, his deep, stormy blue eyes meeting her pale sky blues. "I am...not sure why. Perhaps because in the short time we have known each other, I have grown fond of you."

A smile formed on her lips, lighting up her sorrowful face. "Castiel, you are too good to be true."

He frowned. "I am not sure how one can be-"

"Its an expression." She interrupted quickly, laughing a little. "It means you are unbelievable, in the most positive way possible. That you are so good its hard to believe you are real."

She thought she saw his cheeks color a little, and he looked away from her, clearing his throat. "Well, I assure you, I am very real."

She looked down at the table. "I know..." they fell into silence for a few minutes, neither looking at the other. Alex casually brushed her hands over the files on the table. "So what would you like to do next?" She asked softly.

The angel shuffled uncomfortably, clearing his throat again. "Perhaps we should try to come up with a list of potential candidates... or see if there is some sort of method to determine what kind of father any potential males would be."

"Right...sounds like something." She agreed "Where do we start?"


	9. Ready, Set, Gank

"Holy shit." Dean breathed an hour later. The boys rolled over the border of Souix Falls, Castiel having popped them to an abandoned highway outside the town.

Stretched beyond the windshield is a shimmering, rippling wall of heat, and the brothers could already feel it engulfing the car. The trees they passed seemed dry and withered, quickly dying in the sudden heat wave. Already the grass was yellow, and a sharp breeze whipped sand and dust across the road in front of them. The sun appeared larger than normal, and there was not so much as a single cloud in the sky. As they drove to the center of town, they saw only a small smattering of people, mostly with scarves over their head to protect them from the harsh sun. They all moved slowly, as if all sick or exhausted.

The brothers pulled up in front of the sheriff's house, the old '67 engine rumbling in protest as Dean shut it off.

"No car." Sam noted. "Think she's home?" The pair just stared about for a moment. Then, the older Winchester shook his head.

"Let's find out."

Shoving open his door, the air was so hot he suddenly felt as though he had walked face-first into a brick building. It was dry, and already he could feel his throat aching for water. He grumbled a quiet protest, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand as he slammed the door closed with the other. Sam clambered out of the car with a similar reaction, squinting about as he pulled out the duffle bag and his laptop before closing his door as well. Dean was already making his way to the front door.

He had barely knocked when the door swung open. "Oh man, are you guys a sight for sore eyes." Jody exclaimed as she swept Dean into a hug. "Come in, come in!" She stepped aside to let him pass.

"Seems like Souix Falls can't ever catch a break." Sam noted with a smile as he climbed up the steps.

Jody hugged him too, smiling tiredly. "Sam! So good to see you." She gestured him through the door. "How have you two been? What have you been up to?"

Sam chuckled softly, dropping his eyes to the ground. "That's a long story. Where are the girls?"

"Claire's away at college, thank whoever's listening. She's actually doing really well. And I sent Alex to stay with Donna while I sort this out." Jody explained, following the boys into the house and then leading the way down the hall.

"Ah, more important question," Dean grumbled, wiping sweat off his forehead "What the hell is wrong with your A.C.?"

Jody shook her head. "Not working. The electricity went out, and no matter what the work crews try to do to fix it, they can't seem to get it back on. Souix Falls is falling back to Ye Ol' Times."

"Well that's just fan-freaking-tastic!" Dean grunted.

"Hey, where are we going?" Sam asked as they passed the living room.

"Basement." Jody told them "It's the coolest room in the house right now."

"When did this all start?" Dean asked as they descended the steps to the basement. He breathed a sigh of relief as a wave of cool air washed over him.

"About two weeks ago." Jody replied "At the start of the new moon." They looked at her, surprised. "Yeah, I checked!" She confirmed, hands on her hips "Ever since the vampires, I've been keeping an eye on the lunar paths, weather fluctuations, cattle death, and anything else that might hint to a rise in supernatural activity." She strode over to a small gas lamp, flicking it on. "Any heads up I can get, you know?"

"Alright, well, if it started at the beginning of the lunar cycle, then that confirms who I think it is." Sam dropped his duffle bag near the bottom of the steps and pulled out his laptop.

"Oh, sweetie, that won't work here." Jody told him, gesturing to the laptop.

"...What?"

"No electricity, no internet." She explained with a shrug. "Phone lines went dead shortly after, and even the signal on cells is sparse. I was lucky to get through to you two."

Sam looked utterly lost, opening and closing his mouth a few times. Dean chuckled. Shaking his head and clearing his throat, Sam tucked his precious laptop away.

"Set." He proclaimed as he dug through the duffle bag, pulling out an old, worn book.

"Of course I'm set. Just tell us already." Dean asked, frowning. Jody looked between them curiously.

"No, not-" Sam gave Dean an exasperated look "Set. As in the Egyptian god of deserts, storms, disorder, and violence."

"Oh, well, that sounds fabulous." Jody exclaimed, putting her hands back on her hips.

"Well, he's no picnic in the park, that's for sure." Sam returned with a chuckle. "Apparently he dismembered his brother, Osiris, and spread the parts all around Egypt. And then he raped both his nephew, Horus, and his sister, Isis."

"Lovely." The sheriff breathed, collapsing into a small folding chair with a sigh.

"How do we find him?" Dean asked gruffly.

Sam cracked open the book, flipping through the pages. "Well, despite having a nasty reputation, he's also the god of oases, and all he eats is... lettuce..."

Dean raised an eyebrow at that. "Lettuce? Seriously? What is he, a rabbit?"

Sam shrugged "That's just what the lore says." He turned to Jody. "Any places in Souix Falls seemingly unaffected by this drought?"

"Or have a sudden rise in lettuce intake?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Non-desert wise, only one that I can think of." She said, and her voice sounded a little sad.

The brothers frowned. "Where?" Sam asked.

She looked between them. "Bobby's old place."

Neither said a word. but they both looked at each other before dropping their gazes away. The three were lost in their memories of their old companion for a moment; to the boys, he had been like a second father. To Jody... maybe he could've been more than a friend at times.

"The house was destroyed." Sam said finally, breaking the silence. "Where is Set staying?"

Jody shrugged. "Maybe the old shed or barn? One of the old out buildings? Maybe he's dug a place underground? All I know is the trees and grass there look fine and from the road I thought I saw what looked like a pond or something."

"Certainly sounds like an oasis to me." Sam agreed.

"Alright well how do we kill the bastard?" Dean pressed, tone a little angry.

Sam looked back down at the book. "Well, according to lore, he was kept in iron chains after killing his brother and attacking his nephew, and guarded by one of his wives, Taweret." He turned the page skimming the contents. "So an iron weapon should do the trick, but it looks like its got to be dipped in cow's blood under moonlight."

"Great." Dean replied eagerly "We'll get the weapon made tonight, but we've got a few hours til moonrise so we should go scope out the property in the meantime. And restock on cow's blood."

Jody nodded. "I really appreciate you boys coming." She said with a sigh. "I'm sure you've got enough to worry about without all this crap too."

"Don't worry about it Jody." Dean replied, waving away her fretting. "You know we'd do anything for you."

"Still, after all you two have been through, especially after Mary–" The sheriff cut herself off, biting her lip. The boys' eyes both dropped to the floor, their faces tightening. She cleared her throat. "If anyone deserves a break, its you two."

Dean chuckled darkly. "We weren't exactly on vacation when you called." He muttered bitterly. "Far from it. Just trying to save the world again."

When the older woman looked between the brothers curiously, Sam sighed. "You know how God went off to bond with his sister again, right?" The sheriff nodded. "Well, after...everything with mom...he came back. Just briefly. To let us know he was leaving for good." He shuffled hesitantly "And to give us the God tablet."

"The God tablet?" Jody echoed. "What the hell is that?"

"His back up plan." Dean grumbled bitterly.

Sam glanced at him before continuing. "It was something he had made in secret, without Metatron. So its not really... as clear as the other tablets. But basically he told us that just before he used the last of the beginning of the universe essence to make the archangels and create the ...well, everything..., he saved a tiny portion of it. And when he made souls, he..." Sam dropped off, searching for the words "he wasn't really clear on what he did..."

"Basically, the bastard mixed some of his and his sister's essence into this universe mojo, and set it loose into the souls." Dean interjected. "So that someday, when all the stars aligned and yada yada, this ultimate power would pop into the world."

"Ultimate power?" Jody raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"Yeah. A soul more powerful than any soul that ever was or any soul that would ever be." Sam explained.

Jody frowned. "So when's this soul supposed to turn up? And what's it supposed to do?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. "That's the thing. It's already turned up. Chuck gave us some clues as to where to find it, as well as the tablet."

"Wait, its already around?" The sheriff shook her head in disbelief. "Where? Or... who?" She frowned again. "Is it a who?"

"Its a she." Dean put in.

"We already found her." Sam told Jody. "She's back at the bunker."

The woman looked interested, but she quickly shrugged, as if it didn't particularly matter. "So what's so special about her soul, other than being super powerful or whatever? And what kind of power are we talking about here?"

"God power." Dean said, spinning a knife in his hand restlessly. Jody looked at him in surprise.

"She's supposed to be mother to the next God." Sam finished.

"Mother to the next God?" Jody echoed. "Is that even possible?"

"Apparently." Grumbled Dean. "And we've been looking for a way to slow down the process or stop it all together. But it looks like the girl's gonna have to pick a daddy soon."

The sheriff looked at Sam for an explanation. "She doesn't just... create a God." He offered. "Its gotta be born. Like a regular baby."

The woman's face became quizzically contemplative. "Which means it needs a father..."

Dean shook his head. "Sounds crazy, right?"

"Yeah..." She replied distractedly "Crazy..."

"So that's what we've been dealing with recently." Sam sighed, running one large hand through his long hair.

"See?" Dean smirked "No picnic. No vacation. Just work work work."

Jody didn't answer, seeming lost in her own thoughts. The brothers exchanged another look, small frowns forming on their lips.

"Jody?" Sam called softly.

Whatever trance she had been in, the officer suddenly snapped out of it, looking over at Sam with surprise. "What? Oh, sorry." She shook her head. "That's just a lot to wrap your head around, you know?"

"Oh, we know." Dean grumbled. "But let's deal with your pissy, old world god first. We'll worry about baby gods tomorrow."

Striding over to the duffle bag Sam had packed, he dug through until he found a pair of old iron daggers. He turned them over in his hands and ran his thumb along their edge. Jody eyed the blades and shifted a little, almost nervously.

"Is there a butcher nearby?" Sam asked Jody.

She nodded. "Yeah. Though everything its got is probably spoiled since the fridges would be down."

"Well, I'd rather start there than going to some field and killing a cow." The younger Winchester said, straightening up and sliding out of his coat.

"That'd be tough. What with all the cattle herds dead in their fields for miles around."

"Great." Sam sighed. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Do you have any water?"

Jody nodded, turning to face him. "Though water's in short supply here too. So unless you're on death's door, I'd hold off on drinking what we've got left."

"Deserts officially suck." Dean growled, kicking the duffle bag lightly.

Sam sighed again. "Alright, I guess you and me can hit the butcher's."

"I'm gonna sharpen these." Dean announced, twirling one skillfully in his hand. "Get everything else ready." He glanced at Sam briefly before looking back down at the knife. "Maybe check in with Cas and Hart..."

Sam nodded. "Sounds good. Let's go."

…... …... …... …...

"Dean, you still here?" Sam called out as him and Jody made their way back down into the basement. The sun was getting ready to set, faster than usual it seemed. Sam peered about when he reached the last step.

"Yeah. Right here." Dean scraped the sharpening stone along the blade one last time. He glanced out the tiny window near the ceiling. "Is it getting dark out already?"

Sam nodded, following his brother's gaze. "Seems to be." He looked over at Jody. "That been happening a lot?"

Jody shrugged. "I guess? I hadn't really noticed."

Sam wiped pearls of sweat from his forehead, dropping a plastic bag of half-congealed blood on a nearby table. "Luckily the butcher had some blood left. He was throwing out the rest of the spoiled meat when we popped in."

"Run into any other trouble?" Dean asked, looking up from his work, rubbing his upper lip against his shoulder. The collar of his shirt was damp, and he looked a bit more pink than usual from the heat.

"Just some thirsty, confused townsfolk." Jody sighed, adjusting her coat. "Everyone's been turning to me to try and solve this whole thing." She shook her head. "I don't even know what to tell them."

"Hopefully after tonight things will go back to normal quickly." Dean pointed out, tossing the sharpening stone back into the duffle bag. "God I can't wait to shank this bastard. I can't remember ever being this hot."

Sam pulled his shirt away from his chest, shaking it in an effort to send a breeze of relief to his hot core. "The sooner the moon comes up the better." he agreed.

Jody looked between the brothers. "I'll go get you guys a glass of water." She offered, turning and heading back up the stairs. "You've earned it."

"Thanks Jody." Sam said as she reached the top. She gave him a little wave as she disappeared through the doorway. He frowned slightly, still staring after her.

Dean sighed heavily. "I know that look."

His brother looked over at him. "What look?"

Dean pointed the dagger at him. "That look. That look right there. It means you've got a nerdy thought, and I'm about to hear about it."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Its nothing." He mumbled, then glanced back towards the stairs. "But... did you notice anything... strange about Jody?"

The older brother considered this for a moment. "No, not really. Why?"

Sam shook his head, shrugging. "Its probably nothing." He sighed again, running one hand through his sweat slicked hair. "But she almost grabbed the wrong bag of blood at the butchers. And the whole way there it was almost like she was stalling."

Dean shrugged as well. "Probably just your imagination, Sammy." He scoffed as he used his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead and brow. "This heat's messing with your head. Like she said, townsfolk are keeping her busy."

"Hear anything from Cas and Alex?"

He shook his head. "Couldn't get through... I'm sure they are fine though." He looked up at the sound of footsteps.

Jody returned that moment with two glasses of water. Both boys felt their dry mouths ache at the sight. They grabbed the glasses greedily, gulping down the clear liquid.

"Aren't you having any?" Sam asked Jody, pausing halfway through his glass.

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm alright." The sheriff replied, waving his comment away with a small smile. "I had a few sips upstairs. Besides, we need to save what water we can."

The water was gone all too quickly, and the brothers returned the glasses to Jody almost sadly.

"Well, let's get this show on the road." Dean grumbled, picking up the daggers again. "The sooner we gank this god, the sooner I can drink my weight in water." He strode past the pair, and up the stairs. "And take an ice cold bath." He muttered under his breath.

Jody followed him, then Sam behind her, grabbing the bag of blood as he passed by it. Outside, the temperature remained sweltering.

"I thought deserts got cold at night." Sam mused, wiping his arm across his forehead with a sigh.

"Apparently not this one." Complained Dean, stomping over to his precious car.

The trio slid into the Impala and Dean turned the ignition, cranking up the air. The vents hissed and groaned.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" He snarled, smacking the wheel.

"What now?" Sam asked, frowning.

"The A.C. 's busted." Snarled the older Winchester, smacking the steering wheel again in frustration. He rolled down the window, grumbling softly, putting the old Chevy into gear and rolling backwards out of the driveway.

Sam groaned. "Of course it is."

"DAMNIT ITS TOO HOT!" Dean shouted, wiping at his brow. "I'm gonna gank this asshole so fast, he won't even realize he's dead til he's at the pearly gates. It's an expression Sam" He added quickly, raising his hand as his younger brother began to comment "Don't be a dork. I don't care where Egyptians believe they go when they die."

Jody just shook her head in the back seat. As the car rolled down the road, it quickly became darker and darker, and Sam stuck his head out the window, checking for the moon. At least, that's why he pretended he was sticking his head out the window. In reality, he just liked the breeze on his sweaty brow.

"Damn. Its been years since we were last here." Dean said solemnly as they turned onto the driveway of Bobby's old property. The old sign still hung overhead, though a few letters had fallen off. What once read Singer's Salvage Yard now read: SIN_ER'S SA_VAGE YAR_. A lot of plant growth had overrun the property, coating the abandoned cars and scrap, and as Jody had mentioned, it all seemed to be thriving, despite the heat.

As they rolled down the pothole filled gravel road, the trio peered out their respective windows at the forlorn looking property. Old car bodies were buried under new plant life like a mechanical graveyard. The out-buildings looked as though they might fall apart at any second, and a variety of wildlife darted out of their sight as they passed.

"We're here." Jody announced softly, nodding to the road ahead.

Where the old Singer house had once stood, a small pond now sat. It seemed almost peaceful with a few soft, young trees growing at its edge and a thin path leading to its bank. Dean pulled the Impala up next to the remnants of the porch, which went up two steps before crumbling away into nothing, and the three climbed out of the car, looking about.

"Seems pretty quiet." Sam noted warily, half-squinting as he peered around.

Dean reached back into the car, pulling out the daggers. "Maybe he's not here. Or not back for the night yet." He suggested. Hazel eyes glared glanced up at the sliver of moon, then he whistled softly to his brother. When Sam looked over, he tossed him one of the iron daggers. "Better get these prepped."

Sam nodded his agreement, and ducked his head down to grab the blood bag from the car. A small frown filled his face when he realized it wasn't where he had left it. Maybe it had slid to the back? As he searched, Dean wandered a few paces from the front of the car, while Jody stood watch near Sam.

"I'd feel better if I had a knife too." She called to Dean, who glanced over his shoulder at her.

He chuckled. "Better if you leave the dirty work to us." He returned, starting to turn back to the car. Then something tan caught his eye a dozen yards away.

Frowning, he pivoted back towards it, striding a few feet closer. When he recognized the car hidden behind a bush, his whole body stiffened.

"Dean, did you move the blood?" Sam shouted, torso still bent into the car.

Suddenly, a branch whacked into the back of his head, then the car door slammed against the back of his knees. The tall man crumbled into a heap, dazed and in pain. Dean spun, raising the dagger, his other hand going for the gun tucked into his belt.

"Looking for this?" Jody asked, holding the back of blood in one hand and Sam's dagger in the other. She smirked wickedly.

"Let me guess" Dean growled. "You're Set."

The sheriff's grin widened. "Bravo, Winchester." She sliced the dagger across the bottom of the bag, pouring out the blood on the dirt ground. "Want to see what you've won?"

"Where's Jody?" Dean shouted. He took a threatening step forward, brandishing the gun before him. Sam slowly gathered his feet under him, keeping low and searching for some sort of weapon without letting his eyes leave the imposter.

The old god spread Jody's arms wide. "Why, she's right here, sweetie!" It scoffed. She stomped through the blood, striding closer to the hunters. "Don't you want to come say hello?"

"Set was said to have helped ferry souls to the other side." Sam told Dean as he rose to his feet, drawing the demon knife from his belt. "He must be possessing her, or at least her body."

The three squared off. "Jody! If you can hear me, we're gonna get that thing out of you!" Dean roared, gravelly tones reverberating through the air.

Set/Jody smirked again, tossing aside the dagger. It landed a half-dozen yards away, skipping in the dirt. "I think I want to kill you arrogant pricks with my bare hands." It teased, then paused, looking down at its hands. "Well, these hands anyway. I think Sheriff Mills will really love the experience of ripping out your throats herself" She raised one finger, as if just remembering something. "Oh, and, by the way. Thanks for the information."

"What do you mean, what the hell are you talking about?" Snarled Dean angrily.

"Well, about the girl. This, mother of God you told me all about." A twisted smile filled Jody's face. "Now I know exactly where to go next, after I reduce this pathetic little town to sand and dust." She studied her fingernails. "I'll just make her do what I want, same as your friend here. Take that powerful soul of her's all for myself." She shrugged and laughed wickedly. "Maybe I'll even father the next God, who knows!"

"So she's not possessed." Sam breathed, then looked around desperately. "Which means he must be nearby, controlling her somehow."

"What do we do then?" Dean hissed.

"Why do you just shoot me?" Jody offered. "I'm sure it'll really poke a few holes in your relationship with Jody though." She/he laughed at his own joke.

"Maybe he's not fully corporeal." Sam reasoned quickly "If he was, he'd be here in person himself. He wouldn't need Jody. Or they'd both be here, divide our attentions"

"Well you'd better figure out what he's tied to, and fast." Dean said through gritted teeth.

"You're beginning to bore me." The old god sighed, and flicked a wrist. Dean was sent crashing through the undergrowth in front of the Impala, Sam tumbling away to the right. "Perhaps I should just kill you quickly, then go find this ultimate power you mentioned."

Dean rolled back to his feet quickly, backing away as he searched desperately for something he could use. His thigh bumped into Jody's car, and he glanced at it briefly. But then a thought occurred to him, and he peered into the windows.

Sam went to jump back up, but Jody was already there, and she delivered a quick kick to his face as he moved to stand. He fell backwards again, and before he could even roll over she had grabbed him by the front of his sweaty shirt.

"Tell me, Sammy." She purred, hoisting him up with more strength than a woman her size should ever have. "You've been soulless before. Wanna do it again?" She grinned wickedly again, and brought her other hand to his face.

As her fingertips hovered near his temples and forehead, a slicing, ripping pain shot through him. He screamed in agony, and a thin, wispy blue light began to emerge from between his slightly parted lips.

"HEY DICKBAG!" Dean shouted.

Jody turned, face scrunching up in rage. Dean stood behind them, near the Impala, holding the bloodied dagger she had sliced through the cow's blood. In his other hand, he held a canopic jar, the set-animal carved lid already removed. When she realized what he had, her eyes widened in fear and shock.

"NO!" She screamed, dropping Sam and spinning towards the other Winchester.

Dean upturned the urn, and a pair of withered, black lungs fell out, bouncing to the dirt ground. As her hand raised, the older Winchester dropped to his knees, plummeting the blood drenched dagger into the ancient organ. It burst and spun like a tiny tornado of sand.

A primeval scream erupted from Jody's mouth, steadily growing in volume until it became like a howling wind. A thick, tan colored smoke poured from her gaping jaw, like a sand storm, rising and twisting as if in pain up into the air until it ripped apart. Just as soon as it appeared, it dissolved into nothingness, and Jody collapsed onto the ground.

"Jody!" Dean called, running over.

Sam managed to claw his way closer to the sheriff, barely propping himself up. "Jody!" He gasped, voice hoarse and strained.

Dean reached the pair, dropping back to his knees and pulling the woman onto his lap. For a moment, she remained horribly limp, and both brothers feared the worse. All of a sudden, her body jerked and spasmed, and she began to cough.

"Jody!" Sam breathed in relief, smiling weakly.

"Dean," Jody heaved "Sam!" She reached out, grabbing Dean's shirt "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"It's ok. It's alright." Sam whispered, voice still sore and thin.

"It's over." Dean reassured her, taking her hand in his. "Everyone's fine. Let's just get you back to your place."

The sheriff nodded weakly. Dean helped her to her feet, where she stood by herself so the older Winchester could help his brother clamber up as well. As one the three hobbled to the Impala, past the tiny pile of sand on the ground by the canopic jar.

"What happened? I mean, what really happened?" Dean asked, once he had made sure the woman was settled into the back seat.

She winced painfully as she pulled her legs into the car. "An ancient Egyptian exhibit was passing through town, complete with a mummy and its canopic jars." She breathed, easing herself further into the car. "Some town miscreants stole one of the jars" she nodded to the open jar on the ground "Must have brought it here and opened it or dropped it." She groaned, drawing one hand to her head. "The heat and sand came shortly after, and I came out here to investigate after I sent Alex to Donna's and called you two."

"You found the jar, and as soon as you touched it, Set possessed you." Sam concluded, slowly settling into the front seat.

Jody nodded. "Or something to that effect. It was more like... distant mind control... I could see and hear everything, and he was in my head...reading my memories...pretending to be me...but..."

"It's ok. We've all been there." Dean reassured her again. "You're not a real hunter until you're possessed and trying to kill your friends at least once." He picked up the jar off the ground, replacing the destroyed remains of the lungs and the top. "Best make sure no one else opens this one." He said, offering it to her.

"Or the other three." Sam added "They come in sets of four." He noted when Dean shot him an incredulous look.

"Fucking great." Grumbled the older Winchester, wiping at his brow as he made his way around to the driver's side.

"I'll pack them up tight and send them off." Jody promised, quickly unzipping and removing her jacket. "God its hot!"

"Feels a bit cooler already though," Sam pointed out, rubbing at his throat with one hand.

"How about you, Sammy?" The older Winchester asked with concern, eyeing his brother. "You ok?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." A weak smile slipped across his lips. "Still have my soul."

"Sorry, again, about that..." Jody interjected guiltily. The boys just laughed softly.

Dean turned the key in the ignition, and suddenly cold air came blasting out of the vents. All three passengers sighed in relief. They all leaned closer to the vents, just enjoying the cool air.

"Deserts fucking suck, man." Dean reiterated.

As they made their way back to town, the ride was pleasantly quiet and blessedly short. They had just reached Jody's neighborhood when she finally broke the silence.

"So...was all that true?" She asked.

"Which part?" Dean asked, much cheerier with the A.C. on.

"The part about the mother of God, and something about finding a baby daddy."

Sam sighed tiredly. "Yeah. All true."

"Damn." Breathed Jody, leaning back. She studied the backs of their heads, as if she could see their faces. "...what's she like?"

Dean shrugged. "She's tough, a real spitfire, and stubborn. And god is she hot." He laughed at himself.

Sam rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jody. "She's really nice, and kind-hearted." Sam added fondly "Smart too."

Jody raised an eyebrow. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you two had a crush on her." The sheriff poked, laughing a little.

The brothers' faces both fell a little as her words settled into them. Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if to deny the fact. But he didn't. And Sam turned as if to argue with her. But he didn't either.

The older woman looked back and forth between the two of them, her eyes slowly widening. "Oh my god." One hand rose to her mouth.

They looked at each other, both again searching for words to say, but neither being able to. They pulled into Jody's driveway, where Dean parked and cut the engine. They sat together in silence for a moment, no one quite sure what to say.

"Although I'm sure this girl is as wonderful as you guys make her seem" Jody piped in finally, again the first one to break the silence "I hope you guys talk this out... weird as it may seem." She looked back and forth between them. "Better to be honest than to keep quiet to try to make things easier. It'll blow up in your faces in the long run." She reached out and patted their shoulders, one with each hand. "Just remember all you guys have been through. Together."

Dean chuckled softly, opening and closing his mouth again, and Sam cleared his throat noisily. Again they sat in silence for a moment.

"Right... Well, thank you guys again for everything." Jody said as she opened her car door. "I think I can take the rest from here."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked anxiously, climbing out his door, leaning heavily to support himself.

"You took quite a beating back there." Dean pointed out, opening his door as well.

The sheriff raised her hand, giving them a small smile. "Less than Sam did. And nothing I can't handle. You two have enough on your plate as it is. I can deal with the clean up."

"Well, you have our number if anything else comes up." Dean said, patting the roof of the Impala gently.

"Of course." Jody smiled, "Or you guys could just stop by for dinner sometime."

"I'd like that." Sam smiled back, bending down gingerly as she walked up to him, giving her a gentle hug.

"I'm in." Dean agreed, stepping to the front of the car to hug their friend as she walked around towards him.

She patted the side of his face fondly when they pulled apart, then looked over at Sam. "Don't be strangers. And...maybe bring this girl by sometime." A mischievous grin replaced her friendly smile "I'd like to meet her. After all, I missed out on meeting God."

Both brothers laughed, and Sam rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly. "I'm sure you will, someday." He assured her.

They waved as she made her way up the steps to her front door. Suddenly a soft chime buzzed in Dean's pocket.

"Looks like the phones are back up." He commented, digging out his cell phone from his pocket.

"Who's it from?" Sam asked curiously, leaning against the Impala and looking over its top at his brother.

Dean's face scrunched up in confusion as he peered at the screen. "I think... its from Cas..."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You think?" His brother passed the phone over to him. Sam looked down at the message there. "Deeean, smiley-face, come mountain…. Back... blue...to bunker? ...miss...moose goose...arrow...too?" He guessed, trying to decipher the horrid combination of letters and symbols scrawled across the screen. It looked as though someone had smashed the keys and used whatever autocorrect had suggested to compose the message.

Passing the phone back Sam shrugged, just as confused as his brother. "I'm gonna call." Dean declared, punching a few buttons and shuffling nervously as he slid back into the driver's side of the car. Sam followed suit, dropping back into his own seat.

"Cas? What's going on? What the hell was that message, man?"


	10. Heavenly Bonds

It had been hours. Hours that had felt like days and months. Because although the angel meant well, his awkward, rather one sided "information sessions" had become incredibly dry and monotone. And she didn't want to hurt his feelings by interrupting. After all she had just recently tricked him into listening to her and gotten him into a lot of trouble with his friends. Guilt held her tongue and pained her chest. Though another part of the internalized pain she felt was probably because they were discussing possible fathers for her future child, which was still such a strangely radical idea it physically made her uncomfortable to even consider it. Yet Castiel seemed so easily able to stand back from the situation and begin prattling off about different angels he knew and why or why not they would be good candidates for her. Because they had already kind of ruled out hunters as possible fathers, since it was almost cruel to put that kinda weight on mortal shoulders (unless they were her's, of course). And demons were completely out of the question apparently. His lips would get all thin and his jaw would tighten any time she mentioned them.

There had been some interesting parts, stories that seemed more like the stuff of legends than things that had actually happened. But they were confusing, and it seemed like no matter how she posed her questions, he didn't really understand what she wanted to know. And it always led him off onto tangents.

So she had cracked open a bottle of wine during one of his talks. About some angel she'd never heard of. And all his good qualities, and all his bad qualities. Most of which sounded so minor and boring he might as well be describing a flat-lining tax lawyer. And about four glasses in (because she could drink a six pack and be barely buzzed but wine went straight to her head) she had started humming and giggling softly to herself, having all but completely tuned him out.

At first he hadn't noticed. Until she finished off the bottle and went to stand to get another. And promptly sat back down again.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, face laced with concern.

"Are _you_ alright?" She shot back at him, smiling widely.

He frowned. "I am fine. But you seem unable to stand..."

"I can stand fine!" She said stubbornly. She popped back to her feet and crossed her arms brazenly. "See?"

"Yes, apparently I was mistaken..." He mused, studying her thoughtfully.

She took a few wobbly steps over to the rack where she had found the first bottle. Humming quietly, she studied the bottles before pulling out another large bottle of white wine. When she turned to make her way back to her chair, she found her angel babysitter standing much closer than before.

He looked her up and down, from head to toe, then studied the bottle in her hands. "You are inebriated."

" _You're_ ine...inebree...indeebre... _You're_ drunk!" She exclaimed, her speech slurred slightly, side stepping him and going back to her armchair.

"No, I'm not." He replied, obviously confused.

She laughed lightly at his confusion. "Well, you should be!"

He frowned, walking over to stand at her shoulder as she fiddled with the seal on the wine bottle. "I do not understand."

"Well," she said again, pausing and holding up one hand. "If I drink alone, then I'm an alcoholic. But if someone is drinking with me, then I'm just being social." She looked over at the angel. "You don't want me to be an alcoholic, do you?"

"No..." He replied hesitantly "But I don't believe your logic–"

"Shhhhh!" She whispered, spinning to face him and pressing one finger to her lips. "It works fine." She held out the bottle to him. "Could you open this for me?"

He took the bottle from her almost hesitantly, rolling his hand over the top and popping out the cork like it was a twist off.

Her grin grew by a few molars and she giggled excitedly. "Oh, wicked!"

"I did not intend to be nefarious..."

"It's a Boston expression." She waved away his concern "It means 'cool' or 'awesome'." Quickly she poured herself another overfull glass of wine. "So what'll be your poison for the evening?" She asked, looking up at him with her large, sky blue eyes.

"I do not believe I should be drinking poison..." He paused "Oh, you mean which alcoholic beverage?"

"Yesss." She purred, sitting down with her glass and taking a deep sip. "Its a crime to let a lady drink alone."

"Oh..." The angel looked about, unsure of what to do. "I...don't often partake in such festivities."

"Can an angel get drunk?" She asked curiously, leaning on the knuckles of one hand.

He nodded "It is not impossible, but it requires a substantial amount of alcohol."

She looked about "Well, pick one of the higher proofs then. Because you have to catch up to me."

He frowned. "I do?"

She smiled. "Of course! It's one of the rules of drinking with friends. You have to stay on the same level of drunk."

She thought she saw his face flush a bit. "You consider us friends?"

A small pang stabbed at her chest "Oh... did you not want to be?"

He quickly raised his hands "No, no of course. I'd be honored to be friends with the future mother of –"

She groaned loudly, interrupting him. "Please, I'm drinking to try and get away from that for a bit." She told him "I don't want to be reminded... please?"

He hesitated. "Then what should I call you?"

She laughed. " 'My friend'! Or 'Alex', or 'Alexandra'. Or 'Hart'." She popped up, sitting on the edge of her chair, "OR we could come up with nicknames for each other."

"I'm... not sure I would be any good at that."

"Well, I'll work on one for you, and you can work on one for me. But until then," she gestured to the pantry. "Pick your poison please."

Castiel frowned again, wandering over to the liquor cabinet near the wine rack. He looked up and down the selections before picking up a bottle hesitantly. He slowly came back over to Alex with his selection in hand.

"...Everclear?" Alex questioned, raising an eyebrow with a small smile.

"Yes, it has a high alcohol by volume, and if I am required to reach your same level of intoxication, I believe it will be required."

She eyed him, amused. "Do you drink much?"

He considered the question. "No, not really."

"Are you sure you can...stomach that? Its very strong."

He popped off its top. "I am not concerned. Allow me a moment to drink enough to match your blood-alcohol level."

"Wai-" Before she could stop him, he upturned the bottle in his hand and downed almost a fourth of it. Probably enough to be more than a few shots. And at 190 proof...

She stared slack jawed at him as he sputtered and lowered the bottle. "That does not taste particularly appealing." he said with a grimace.

Alex couldn't help laughing at his expression, her smile nearly splitting her face in two. He looked over at her as she drank another large sip of her wine to ease her giggles.

"Will that be satisfactory? Or should I consume more?"

"Nooooo no no." She put out a hand, touching his forearm. "Wait a bit... see how that affects you. I don't want you to get sick."

"That is very kind of you, but I would not place undue concern upon the notion." He assured her "Angels are celestial beings of great power and strength; a simple man-made concoction designed for amusement and self-destruction will not have much affect."

"Just...hold off still." She insisted, grinning.

"Very well, as you wish." He looked about, almost curiously. "What else is one supposed to do when drinking with ...friends?"

"Whatever you want!" She patted the chair next to her's. He took the hint and sat down. "Maybe we could...talk? Or we could play a game? Or we could sing?"

"I am not very inclined to singing..."

"Ok, then a game!" She amended excitedly. "How about 'Never Have I Ever'?"

"I am unfamiliar with this game." He commented with a frown.

"Its a game that lets you get to know people. You hold up a certain number of fingers, determined at the beginning of the game, and then you take turns making never have I ever statements." She explained "If the other person says something that you've done before, you have to put a finger down. When all of your fingers are down, you lose, and you have to drink. The goal is to get the other people playing to lose, by saying things you know they've done that you have not."

"But I do not know what you have or have not done." He pointed out.

"I don't know much about you either. That's the learning about each other part!" She exclaimed, taking another deep sip. "Let's start with three fingers, and I'll start. To lead by example." She held up her first three fingers. "Hmmm. Never have I ever...been able to fly."

Castiel considered that for a moment. "I am not sure if it is the conventional definition of flying... I have the ability to move from place to place at will, but I am not flapping my wings as a bird does-"

"I think it counts. Put a finger down."

"I have not put any fingers up..."

"Well, put up two fingers, and its your turn." She instructed, smiling.

He awkwardly held up his index and middle finger, looking baffled by the motion. "So now I state something I have never done?" He asked, and when she nodded, he continued. "I have never created a universe."

"...Ok, well neither have I. So I won't put a finger down." She eyed him "Try to think of things I might have done that you have not."

"Oh, ok."

"My turn. Hmmm... Never have I ever...been to Hell."

Castiel looked at his fingers almost curiously, then slowly lowered one. He looked over to Alexandra, as if checking to see if he had acted correctly. She nodded and smiled, and he gave a small, shy smile in return.

"I have never...been born a human." Castiel said hesitantly.

Alex smiled widely, and lowered a finger. "Good! You're getting the hang of it!" The angel seemed to squirm a bit happily under her praise. "But you've only got one finger left. And since you went the human route, I'm going to go with; Never have I ever been an angel."

Castiel lowered his final finger. "I have lost?"

She nodded. "So you have to drink." She grabbed his arm gently as he raised the bottle to his lips again. "Just a sip though."

He looked at her, then nodded. She released his arm and he took a sip of the strong drink. His teeth clenched and he lowered the bottle. His dark, stormy blue eyes considered his fingertips. "I believe I am beginning to feel something..."

She smiled. "Good. Because drinking alone is not as fun." She raised three fingers. "Wanna go again?" He nodded and raised three fingers as well. "You can go first."

"Never have I …. had a mother."

Alex lowered a finger. "Really? No mother?"

Castiel shook his head. "God created us from nothing, he is our father. But there was no mother. Thought in some ideologies he could be considered both mother and father."

"Alright then... Never have I ever...had more than two brothers."

Castiel lowered a finger. "I had forgotten you had siblings." He said apologetically. She shrugged with a smile and he considered his next choice. "I have never... attended a human school."

She laughed "Touche. Fine then. Never have I ever ….. been married." He lowered a finger. "Really?"

He nodded "Yes, there was a brief period of time when I lost my memory and believed myself to be human, and during that time I married a young woman."

"Where is she now?"

He hesitated, looking a bit pained. "I am guessing she moved on with her life." He proposed "I was not the man she fell in love with, nor could I ever be once I remembered who I was." He cleared his throat quietly, obviously desiring to change the subject. "I have never...been the future mother of god, with the most powerful soul that ever was or ever will be."

Alex's smile faded, but she dropped her last finger. She didn't comment on his choice, instead downing the last half of her glass and pouring herself another. Castiel watched her, seemingly confused.

"Did I do something wrong?"

She shook her head, gulping a few mouthfuls of wine. "No, absolutely not. You won." She gave him a small smile. "Since we've each won once, maybe we should do something else?"

Castiel reached out and touched her forearm, as she had done to his earlier. "I have upset you."

She shook her head again, moving to take another sip of her wine to hide the pain in her chest. "No no. You're fine. Don't worry about it."

His hand gripped her arm a little tighter though as she raised the glass. "I was not supposed to bring up... what we are not talking about right now." He stated "I apologize for forgetting momentarily. I believe the alcohol is beginning to affect me..." He looked down at the bottle in his hand.

Alex gave a small, sly grin. "Take another sip, just to check." She told him.

He raised the bottle to his lips again, and this time he chugged a few more shots worth, until the girl raised her hands and reached out, laughing.

"Slow down, angel-boy." She told him, still laughing as she gently pulled his arm.

"I find myself enjoying the sensation." He told her, wiping a small droplet from the corner of his mouth. "And the taste has become less revolting."

She laughed again, a melodic ringing that echoed about the library they sat in. "Alcohol tends to have that affect." She agreed, taking another deep sip of her wine. She was already down to a quarter glass of what she had just refilled.

Reaching out, she grabbed the bottle, pulling out the cork and refilling her glass. She glanced over at Castiel, who seemed to have a complicated expression as he read the label on his drink. She felt her eyes tracing the strong line of his jaw, lingering on his thin, drawn lips. His dark, stormy blue eyes drew her in like a fish on a line.

Quickly, she looked away, taking a heavy sip from the freshly refilled glass to distract herself. "You know what I want to do?" She asked him suddenly.

"What?" He glanced up at her.

"Music." She hummed. "I want to sing. I want to dance."

"I believe Dean has some records here –"

"Well, let's get them!" She proclaimed, throwing back the last of her wine and jumping up. She promptly began to lose her balance, wavering backwards.

"Careful!" Castiel cautioned, and she felt him step up behind her, steadying her.

"Thank you." She slurred a bit, giggling. She couldn't help but lean against him as she tried to find her feet beneath her. "Where will I find these records?" she asked.

Castiel gestured to a small table at the back corner of the library. As she stumbled her way over, the angel watched her contemplatively. A small, confused frown formed on his lips. When she had reached the record player, she glanced back at him. He quickly averted his gaze, realizing he had been staring, taking another sip of his drink. But she merely smiled, and looked over the equipment before her.

"Oh! Its got an aux cable!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"Is that significant?" The angel asked, taking yet another deep drink from the large bottle of Everclear in his hand. Almost half of the bottle was gone now.

"Absolutely! It means I can play my own music!" The girl dug through her pockets for a second, pulling out the cracked, worn iPod Crowley had returned to her. She popped in the the cable, scrolling through the various songs and playlists.

The song "So Close" by Jon Mclaughlin rolled through the speakers as she hit shuffle. She closed her eyes happily, swaying. She mimed a few steps next to the speaker, holding her arms out as if embracing an imaginary partner.

"Do you know how to dance?" She asked the angel, turning to face him and dropping her arms.

"I have never really had occasion."

"Well, now you do." She stepped over to him, placing one hand on his shoulder, sliding her other hand down into his, extending their hands out to rest in the air parallel to their bodies .

He watched at her movements, confused. As her hand fell into his, he gently clasped it, mimicking her motions. Putting his bottle down, he gingerly placed his other hand on her upper arm, as light as he could. She smiled widely at him.

"Just try not to step on my toes." She teased him. "Walk in a square with your feet for now."

"I don't understand."

"Follow my lead." She instructed him, and began stepping with the music.

At first they moved clumsily, and when she stumbled, she laughed at the ridiculousness of it. At the melodic chime of her voice, Castiel couldn't help his smile. But as the song continued, they found a rhythm, and began to move together as one. He began to feel bolder, and she felt more at ease in his arms. His hand dropped down to her waist as if by instinct, and they spun about the room, matching each other's pace. The endearing lyrics rang in both their ears, and the angel couldn't help but stare deep into the sky blue eyes of the human girl in his arms. His heart pounded in his chest, and suddenly his mouth felt dry. The alcohol in his system made everything feel tingly and numb, as if they were both made of clouds. His thoughts raced, but also seemed slower than usual. He thought he heard her pulse quicken too, and her cheeks flushed slightly as they stared at each other.

She released his shoulder and delicately pulled away from him while still holding his hand before ducking back in slowly, gracefully. He smiled, because he had never thought it possible to do something so incredibly human. He had always thought it beyond him, beyond his creative capabilities. Humans were the creators, the artists, the innovators. Angels were the soldiers. But here he was, dancing. Not well, for they staggered and stumbled as they moved, but they did it together. The music grew louder, faster. As it did, he recalled what he had seen of dancing on the television, and spun her gently by one hand. He was rewarded with another melodic laugh, and when she was once again facing him, he wrapped his arm about her waist, pulling her in close, before spinning her out again. They turned and spun, keeping up to the beat, smiling and laughing at their misguided steps. His laughter was soft; muted and hesitant, while her's seemed to dance in the air around them, guiding their movements. Each step they took they memorized, and when they moved again, it was with more grace and poise. Soon, they were moving as if they had been dancing all their lives; hands intertwined, eyes locked. Occasionally he glanced down at his feet, wary of her initial warning to not step on her toes. It was so strange to him, two entities moving and acting as one. There was not a sound between them besides the hum of their hearts and the ringing of their laughter. He couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed himself this much. He spun her again, and then again, and once more, stretching her out then pulling her back in, even closer than before. Her laughter was more beautiful than the music ringing in his ears.

As one they froze, their faces inches away. She felt his scent engulf her, and her heart raced in her breast. She was sure her cheeks were flushed, and her hand quivered at is fell lightly upon his chest. He looked down at her, his stoic face searching her's, as if looking for the answer to some secret question. She felt his other hand tighten about her's. His eyes flicked over to their entwined fingers, his thumb tracing her own. But then those stormy blues were back, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. She couldn't help it, pressed so close to him, his hand on her lower back, his handsome face just inches away; her eyes glanced instinctively at his lips. Just as quickly, she forced them back up to his eyes, feeling her pulse race even faster and her cheeks flush.

"I...am having unpure thoughts..." He murmured softly, and she noticed his own eyes dart to her own lips before back up to her eyes. Those long, dark eye lashes seemed like the midnight sky surrounding the dawn.

"...Yeah...me too..." She breathed in response, lost in his eyes.

The song was ending, and with the last crescendo of the piano, he leaned in. Both hesitated, neither breathing, but then the music reached a peak and he managed to close the space between them even more. At first, they seemed suspended in time, neither moving, neither daring to so much as blink. She felt herself spinning, lost in his eyes. Then his lips pressed against her's ever so lightly. She drew in a sharp breath through her nose as they pressed together, turning her chin up to meet his waiting mouth. He felt so warm, and instinctively her hand slid up to slide around the back of his neck. He pulled her closer, their bodies brushing together as he deepened the kiss. She eagerly opened her mouth in response. His lips parted too, and she slowly traced her tongue into his mouth. His waited and slid along her's.

Almost as suddenly as he had kissed her, he pulled away. "I...I apologize." He stammered. Backing away so quickly, his knee bumped into a small table, knocking it aside. He shook his head. "That was wrong, and I should not have..."

"No... its my fault..." She quickly recovered from the shock of his withdrawal, dropping her gaze to the floor and rubbing the back of her neck. "I just...got caught up..."

"...In the moment, yes, I did as well..." The angel cleared his throat nervously, looking about. "I am supposed to be your guardian...it is improper of me to harbor feelings for you..."

Her heart felt as though it might just leap from her chest; it was beating so fast there was hardly a pause between beats to distinguish them. Another song began playing through the speakers, but she didn't even register it. "Harbor feelings?" She echoed, breathlessly.

"No, I... No..." he stammered, and she almost smiled at his flustered reaction. He cleared his throat noisily again. "I should... _we_...we should... message Dean..." He mumbled, retreating even further.

As he turned his back to her, she quickly walked over to the wine bottle, pouring herself another glass and downing it quickly. Trying to rinse the taste of him from her mouth. She forced herself to steady her shaking hands, placing one over her racing heart. What was the matter with her? She wasn't usually the kind to freak out over a kiss.

"Damn..." She heard him mutter as he fumbled with his phone. The harder he tried to manage it, the more out of hand it seemed to become. He dropped it clumsily, and it clunked to the ground. "Damn..." He cursed again. He glanced over at her nervously, eyes darting about as if unsure where to look. Quickly, he picked up the Everclear and downed another quarter of it.

"It was just a kiss." She reassured him (as well as herself) "An alcohol induced kiss." She traced the edge of the glass his her hands. "It didn't mean anything..." She murmured quietly, staring at the ground.

"Maybe..." The angel agreed softly, though he sounded hesitant. He looked at the bottle of liquor guiltily before replacing it on the table. "Or..." He dropped off, slowly bending down to pick up his dropped phone.

"...Or?" she couldn't hide the hopefulness in her breath.

He cleared his throat again. "Or... your soul is resonating more powerfully than we thought..." He glanced over at her "And I am no longer immune to its affects..."

"Oh..."

A pain crept into her chest, and she felt tears at the corners of her eyes. So there was no attraction. No truth in that moment, when every molecule of her being felt so perfectly tuned to him. It was not that spark of possibility, the flicker of a candle that could be flamed into passion. Into love. It was her soul, calling out to him. And the alcohol probably had a lot to do with it too. She brushed the tears back, forcing a smile on her lips.

"Well, as long as we know what it was." She declared with a forced cheeriness. "Did you reach Dean?"

The angel looked at her with a confused expression, his brow furrowed, his lips drawn. He looked down at his phone at her question. "I'm...not sure... I seem to be a bit inee …. inde...innbria...drunk..."

She almost laughed aloud at that, but then the phone in his hand began to buzz and ring. He hit a button, bringing the receiver up to his ear.

"Dean." He greeted in his deep, gravelly voice. He paused, listening to what he was saying on the other side. "I wish for you to return to the bunker. Now." He glanced over at Alex briefly. "Is the situation in Souix Falls resolved?" Another pause. "Very well, I am bringing you back." And he snapped his fingers.

Suddenly there was a loud crash, and Alex couldn't help but to jump a bit. Her eyes widened in surprise and she looked about in confusion. Castiel looked a bit perplexed as well, dropping the phone from next to his ear and looking over towards the door that led to the garage.

"CAS!" Came the angry roar of Dean, muted by the walls and distance.

"I appear to have...miscalculated the landing..." the angel noted, gingerly placing the phone on a nearby table.

Car doors slammed and the pair heard boots stomping on the ground. Suddenly the door swung open, ricocheting off the wall with a bang. Alex started again, eyes wide.

"CAS WHAT THE HELL?" Dean snarled, glaring over at the angel. Sam appeared just behind his shoulder.

"I...miscalculated the landing..."

"No shit Sherlock!" The Winchester snapped. "What the hell were you thinking, just popping us back over here?"

"I...umm..." the angel mumbled something incoherent, shuffling his feet and nearly losing his balance in the process.

"What?!" Dean snarled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Castiel cleared his throat. "I have been compromised." He repeated, louder.

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking over at Alex. She gave a small, guilty shrug. "What does that even mean?" He asked, confused.

Again the angel cleared his throat. "I am having unpure thoughts." He swayed slightly where he stood, then steadied himself. A flush of pink filled Alex's cheeks.

The hunters stared at him, still not entirely understanding what he meant at that moment. They looked at each other, then back at him. Sam glanced over at Alex again, and clarity filled his face slowly.

"You mean..."

"Yes." He confirmed "I have been unable to remove the thought of kissing Alexandra from my mind, as well as ….. other things..." he announced, dropping off, and everyone became visibly more uncomfortable as he spoke.

Alex's face flushed even more red at the word 'kiss', and she cleared her own throat nervously. _Please don't tell them. Please please please please please._ She begged silently. She didn't think she could take the embarrassment; the shame of a public retraction of his intimate moment with her.

"For fuck's sake.." Grumbled Dean, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sam dropped the duffle bag on a chair, wincing as his muscles smarted.

"Sam, you are injured." Castiel noted with concern. "Let me-" he took one staggering step forward and caught himself on the side of a chair.

The boys looked at him incredulously. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean demanded, then spun towards Alex. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

She shuffled nervously, leaning casually against a beam. Or at least she tried to be casual, but she slipped a bit first before catching herself. "He …..may be just a bit... ummm... drunk..."

"Jesus Christ. You both are." Dean remarked. Sam couldn't help but to laugh out loud, smiling.

"I fail to see the humor." Castiel scolded, a deep scowl forming on his face. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. "The room is beginning to lose its sense of equilibrium."

Dean rolled his eyes, striding over to the angel. He grabbed his shoulder solidly with one hand. "Hey, look at me...Hey!" Castiel managed to meet his gaze, eyes unfocused. Dean studied him for a moment then shook his head. "Yup. Drunk as a skunk. Great..." His gaze fell upon the nearly empty bottle of Everclear. Perhaps there was a small part of him that was impressed. But his face just showed resignation. "Well, let's get you somewhere to sleep it off."

"I don't sleep." The angel reminded him, swaying where he stood.

Dean shrugged one shoulder. "Today you do. You'll actually get to use your room for once."

"I am... unsure of where my room is."

The older Winchester smirked. "I remember. Want a hand?"

The angel blushed and straightened himself awkwardly, brushing the older Winchester's hand from his shoulder. "I am an angel of the lord. I can find my own bedroom." He grumbled stubbornly. He turned and started walking towards the kitchen.

Dean cleared his throat. "Cas." The angel of the lord looked back towards him. Dean pointed down the long hallway in the opposite direction. "It's that way."

Castiel's face tightened. "I knew that." He grumbled, staggering towards the hallway. Suddenly, he disappeared with a flutter of wings (which seemed louder than normal). A moment later, they heard another crash in the distance.

Dean shook his head slowly, sighing. "I'm gonna go check on him. Make sure he has some water." He told Sam and Alex, already making his way down the hallway.

Sam turned to face her as Dean's steps receded into the distance. "So. You stayed in the bunker this time." He teased, an amused smirk on his face.

She returned the smile. "I told you I would." Brushing past him, she made her way back over to the bottle of wine, which only had a few drops left. "How'd the thing with Judy go?" She asked, pouring the last of the wine into her glass.

"Jody." Sam corrected, watching her warily as she downed half the glass. "And fine. It was Set."

"The Egyptian god?" She asked, wandering over to the wine rack again.

The taller Winchester was almost surprised when she recognized the name. "Uh, ...yeah. He was released from a canopic jar."

"Huh. Set doesn't guard canopic jars..." She noted, pulling another bottle from the rack.

Sam eyed the two empty bottles on the table. "Umm... Not that it's any of my business but...don't you think you've had enough?" He asked, tucking his hands into his pockets as he walked over to her.

"Nope." She returned, turning with the new bottle in one hand and the half finished glass in the other. "I'm pulling a Jesus."

"A Jesus?" Sam echoed, brow furrowing.

"Yup." She confirmed. "I'm turning water into wine. Most notably, all the water in my body."

Sam would have laughed, had she not said it with such a sad, serious face. He watched her walk past him, her steps labored. When she reached the table, she polished off the last of the wine in her glass, then groped about for the wine opener.

"You ok?" He asked, following her trail back to the table.

She scoffed softly. "I'm twenty-four years old, and I just found out that there are angels, and demons, and monsters, and hunters, and fucking dragons and oh yeah I'm supposed to be mother to the next God. I don't know when, I don't know how, and in addition, everyone on earth who meets me from now on, including all those things I didn't know existed, will be magically forced to like me and want to have sex with me, or if not then they'll be trying to kill me." Her speech slurred slightly, catching on her tongue as it fell from her lips. She struggled, trying to force the bottle open. "And to top it all off, my family doesn't know where I really am, my job thinks I'm an ass, there are dead bodies in my apartment, and my dog was zapped off to god knows where." She put her muscle into trying to turn the corkscrew in deeper. "But noooo, I'm perfectly fine. Thanks for asking."

Sam stepped over as she spoke, and as she slowly became more frustrated with the bottle, he slid his hands over top of her's. At his touch, she looked up at him, surprised. His deep, puppy dog eyes were filled with pity and regret. And a odd hint of familiarity. As if he understood her; really _understood_ why she was so frustrated and depressed. Taking the bottle from her, he finished pulling off the seal on the wine, then popped out the cork.

"Thanks." She said softly as he handed the bottle back to her.

"If there was ever a good reason to drink," he dropped off, shrugging with a small smile.

She mirrored his smile, though her eyes were still filled with sorrow. It hurt him to see her in such pain. It stirred up memories of his own most helpless moments. But there was a strength in her eyes too. Yes, she was lost. Yes, she felt hopeless. But she hadn't given up yet. She was still fighting. He only wished she'd let him fight with her.

He walked over and grabbed another glass as she poured her's, placing it on the table. She glanced at him before pouring some wine into his glass as well.

"So." He started, swirling the wine in his glass. "You got Cas drunk."

She chuckled softly, looking a little guilty. "Yeah... I told him if I drank alone, then I would be an alcoholic, so he had to drink with me."

Sam laughed, a wide smile splitting his face. He continued to laugh as he sipped at his drink, obviously tickled by the notion. As the silence stretched between them, her music softly wafted through the air.

"Where'd you find this stuff?" He asked, gesturing to the speakers.

"Its mine. Off my iPod." She told him. The previous song ended and "Samson" by Regina Spektor started playing, and she smirked at the irony. 2400 songs on shuffle and a song about a man named Sam came on while she was drinking with a man named Sam.

"Didn't know you had that with you."

"Crowley grabbed it for me." She explained.

His face became dark. "Don't trust him," He warned her. "And I wouldn't accept gifts from him either, or ask for things."

She shrugged. "He says the same about you guys. And I don't really get the choice on the gifts. He just brings them to me."

Sam looked surprised. "He's brought you other gifts?"

Alex cocked one eyebrow. "Where did you think I was getting all these new clothes?"

The hunter looked her up and down, as if just then realizing she was not in her original outfit or any of the garments he had given her. She laughed at his expression.

"You're cute when you're flustered." She teased, slurring her words as she ran one hand through her long hair.

His cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked over at him, a bit surprised at the change of color in his face. She took another sip of her wine, eyeing him curiously. He brushed his hair back from his face, looking down at his glass as he searched for something to say. She found herself lost in his strong jaw and brown eyes. Shaking herself, she brushed those thoughts from her head, sighing heavily.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, and when she looked over at him again, she met his deep brown eyes.

She shook her head, but then stopped herself, hesitating. "Just... something Castiel said before you guys turned up."

"What was that?"

Again, she hesitated. She glanced at him briefly, before staring into the depths of her drink. "He mentioned... maybe I'm resonating already... since he's starting to feel affected..."

"Affected by alcohol, maybe." Sam scoffed, brushing off the notion. He saw her forlorn face and reached out, placing one hand on her wrist. "Hey, Hey!" She glanced up at him "You're fine. Cas was just drunk. Don't do that to yourself."

"Maybe..." She offered softly. Her skin tingled at his touch, and she glanced down at his hand. She swallowed nervously, and he gave her wrist a squeeze reassuringly. "I guess alcohol could explain it all..." _Even my thoughts right now,_ she added silently.

He smiled. "Definitely."

"Perhaps we should all follow his example, and hit the hay." She noted, swallowing the last of her glass.

She stood slowly, and Sam nodded, finishing his glass too and following suit. As soon as she stepped away from the table, the room spun a bit, and she staggered.

"Woah, hey," Sam exclaimed, jumping over to catch her before she fell. His strong arms wrapped about her waist, steadying her.

Alex turned, looking up at the man who was a head taller than her. Her pulse quickened at his smiling face, and she swallowed nervously. "Thanks... but I can manage..."

"Don't be stubborn." He told her, sidling up to her and securing his hold about her waist. "I'll help you to your room. Get you some water."

Dean was just coming down the hallway as they walked back. He smirked at them, raising an eyebrow. "Headed to bed you two?" He teased "I'd suggest Sam's, since it's bigger."

"That's what she said." Alex mumbled, grinning stupidly.

Sam started laughing so hard he nearly dropped her, and even Dean cracked a grin. "Need a hand?" He asked his brother. Without waiting for a reply, he hooked his arm under Alex's opposite shoulder. As his hip brushed her's, she felt heat rising to her cheeks.

Surrounded by the handsome brothers, she felt a familiar stirring in her belly, and she had to swallow hard and start vigorously thinking about something else to resist the urge to grab either one's ass or try to convince them to never let her go. Even the smell of them surrounded her; Sam's was reminiscent of old parchment and smoked wood, Dean's of worn leather and rain-dampened earth. Her thoughts were fuzzy and disjointed, and her tongue felt too big for her mouth. _Just the alcohol_ , she reminded herself. Or more, tried to convince herself.

"Angel-boy ok?" She asked Dean as they made their way down the hallway, each of her hands resting on one of their shoulders.

Dean nodded. "He passed out as soon as he hit the sheets." He chuckled to himself. "The poor bastard was so out of it, he nearly dragged me into bed with him."

 _Now there's a thought,_ the dirty part of her brain teased. A small smile played across her lips before she managed to subdue the train running wild through her mind.

"How bout you, Blondie?"

"Huh?" She looked back over at the older Winchester.

"... You ok?" Dean's genuine concern sent a pang through her heart.

She smiled as brazenly as she could manage, pulling away from the brother's supporting arms and spinning to face them. "Perfectly wonderful!" She beamed, walking backwards a step so she could face them as she spoke.

As she went to turn back to the direction they were going, she staggered, nearly slamming into the wall.

"Careful! Careful!" Dean exclaimed, catching her.

She fell against him instead of the wall, one of his arms wrapped about her protectively. She sighed deeply, resting her ear against his chest. _If only,_ she thought silently to herself, inhaling the sweet musk that his shirt was coated in. She yawned, slowly pulling herself upright. He held each of her upper arms gingerly.

"We're almost there." Sam pointed out.

Dean helped her turn about, still holding onto her upper arms as he steered her down the hallway from behind. Sam's long stride brought him a step ahead of them, and he opened the door to her room. As soon as she was at the bedside, she sighed deeply again and let herself fall atop it. Dean released her, letting her free-fall, and chuckled as she bounced.

"I'll go get a big ol' glass of water for you." He told her "You'll be wanting it."

"Yup." She mumbled, lifting her head to look at the brothers groggily.

As Dean disappeared into the hallway again, Sam sat down next to her, slowly lifting her legs to place them on the bed properly. He reached down, brushing the hair back out of her face.

"You good?" He asked, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

Slowly, she rolled herself up to a sitting position, crawling a little closer to Sam. She wrapped her arms about his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Surprised at first, Sam tensed. But then as she leaned against him, he rested his hands on her back, rubbing them up and down gently, soothingly.

"Thank you." She breathed against his neck. Oh, how she wanted to stay there forever. But that was just the wine talking, she decided. Sam probably didn't share the same thoughts.

"Anytime." He replied softly, breathlessly.

Gently he pulled her closer to him, and she didn't bother to resist as he turned and manipulated her unruly body. He shifted her until he was able to slip one arm under her knees and hoist her up princess-style. Pivoting at the waist, he laid her back upon the bed, as gently as he could. Slowly he untangled her arms from around him, keeping one hand behind her head. She yawned again, her eyes already closed. As he lay her head back against the pillows, he couldn't resist brushing her hair back once more. Again, his fingers lingered upon her cheek, and he felt his eyes flicker over her face.

Dean's footsteps had him retracting his hand though, clearing his throat. "She already out?" Dean asked, placing the large pitcher of water and empty glass on the bedside table.

"No I'm not." mumbled the girl softly, one hand rubbing at her eye.

"Well, you should be. Get some sleep." Dean ordered her.

Sam stood, patting his brother on the shoulder. "I think I'm gonna hit the hay too." He told him distractedly. "It's been a long day."

"Yeah, you can say that again." He replied, smacking Sam's back as he walked by. "Sleep well."

Looking back down at the younger woman on the bed, he found her sky blues open, staring up at him. She smirked as he met her gaze, and he leaned down, trying to hide his smile.

"What's so funny?" He asked, leaning on his hands to be closer to her.

She reached out and ran her fingers through the top of his hair. He stiffened at her motion, but didn't retract. In reality, her touch sent electricity zipping through him, but he fought hard to hide it.

"Your hair is so spikey." She mumbled.

He reached up, catching her wrist gently and pulling her hand down. "Thanks." He replied, giving her a small grin. "Your hair's..." he hesitated, looking down at her. Around her head, her blonde hair cascaded like a golden crown. His smile softened, and he brushed her hand against the side of his face, his lips skimming wrist lightly. "... beautiful..." he whispered, so soft she didn't hear him.

Dean cleared his throat, straightening and putting her hand gently down on the bed. "Get some sleep." He told her again, then turned and left the room.

She yawned as the door closed, stretching out along the bed. Her brain felt fuzzy, her chest felt warm. She sighed deeply, pulling the covers over herself and closing her eyes. Too bad neither of them were interested in her. They seemed like really good guys. And maybe they'd make good fathers too. Wouldn't it be nice? She wouldn't have to look for a 'candidate' anymore. She already had three great choices. And being held and loved and...touched by them... She bit her lip, brushing the thoughts aside. No more wine for her around all this temptation. _You have to stay strong,_ she reminded herself. _Don't trust anyone. You don't know what they really want._ Her doubting, negative thoughts wondered if this had been some elaborate plan all along; to have her pick one of them as the father. Perhaps they had set it up to make it seem like they were rescuing her. Maybe this was all just Stockholm Syndrome and she just didn't know. She shifted, squinting through half-closed eyes at the dark room. Or maybe she would wake up soon in a padded room at the insane asylum up the street from her apartment.

Yawning again, she rubbed at her eyes and settled back into her sheets.


	11. Don't Ever Laugh as the Hearse Goes By

"Where is she?" The demon demanded, skipping down the stairs in a rushed gait.

"Good morning to you too, Sunshine." Dean yawned, taking another sip of his coffee.

Sam looked up from his newspaper, squinting at the King of Hell. "We really need to find a way to lock you out."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Crowley growled exasperatedly, throwing up his hands. He slammed them back down on the table, palms down. "Where. Is. She."

"Relax, she's in her room" Dean rolled his eyes and shifted his feet propped up on the table. "Probably still sleeping."

The demon slowly straightened, his face grim. "Then she doesn't know yet."

"Know what?" Sam asked, concern beginning to knit his brow. He folded his newspaper and sat up more. Dean dropped his legs to the floor, and leaned forward to rest one arm on his knee.

Crowley looked between them for a moment, then sighed heavily. "It's not good, boys." He told them solemnly.

"Oh stow the melodramatic crap and just tell us." Dean snapped.

The demon shook his head, for once at a loss for words. "Better I show you...Got a TV?"

"In my room." Sam said, standing.

"Turn it on."

Sam led the way quickly down the hall, the other two just a few paces behind. He swung open the door to his room, leaving it open for them to follow. He dropped down to one knee in front of the screen to the old box TV, flicking a button and adjusting a wire.

"What's this thing from 19-tickity-two?" The demon exclaimed, looking over at Dean.

"Shut up." Was the only reply he got.

Sam adjusted the channels for a few moments. "What am I looking for?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"...You'll know when you see it."

Just as the younger Winchester turned back to the TV, the channel flicked to a news station, where the headlines 'BREAKING NEWS' scrolled in bright red letters at the top and the bottom of the screen. A smart dressed anchor woman had her face set in a grim line as she spoke, her co-anchor looking equally mournful.

"...as we get more updates. International police are saying that the nearly one hundred victims were spread across multiple continents, including North America, Europe, and Asia, and appeared to have all died simultaneously." She continued on "From ten families in Mexico, three families in France and Ireland, and four families here in the United States, the victims at first appeared random, but police are now saying that all the families have been tied to just one; a husband and wife from Massachusetts..."

"Oh god.." Sam breathed, already connecting the dots, glancing at his brother. Dean's face became harder as the anchor went on.

"...was NOT a terrorist attack, as was originally believed, since all the victims are related by blood or marriage to this family out of northern Massachusetts..." she paused "This just in, the names of the identified victims are now being released to the public: Lee Hart, and his wife, Cristina Benitez Hart, as well as their sons, Christopher Hart and Kevin Hart, and their sons' wives, Sarah Lyn Hart and Erin Cudgel Hart were found dead in their homes this morning..." The woman's face grew even more grim as she continued on "...Also found in their homes were the young children of Christopher and Sarah Hart; Joshua Hart, age 5, and..." Her voice broke briefly, but she steeled herself "Emily Hart... four months old..."

Dean's hands balled into fists and Sam's face grew slowly more grim as he stared at the screen.

Seeing his co-anchor beginning to lose her composure, the male anchor took over. "All of the victims were killed the same way, and from the original data being gathered, it appears they were all murdered at almost exactly the same time. Cristina Benitez Hart, originally from Monterrey, Mexico, had six siblings, and as more information comes forward about the victims from across the globe, it appears her entire family was murdered as well as Lee Hart's family found in Michigan, California, Connecticut, and England. The ages of the victims vary, with 21 of the 85 victims being under the age of 18 years old. Authorities have ruled out suicide based upon the evidence collected at the scenes, although the cause of death has not yet been released to the public..."

"I had demons on them..." Crowley said softly "But they slaughtered them as well...poor buggers never stood a chance against such numbers..."

"What's going on?" Castiel asked, stepping in from the hallway.

"Angels did this?" Dean demanded, ignoring Castiel, who looked at the TV.

"...the death count now rises to 88 as another young family has just been found dead in their home in Baja California. Daniel Salinas Benitez, his wife Carol Hoyos Benitez, and their son Icar Benitez, age 7. Once again, related to the Hart family out of northern Massachusetts by blood and marriage..."

"Seems that way." Crowley replied stoically. "Saw a few of the bodies myself. Eyes are burned out..."

"Why? Why would they do that?" Dean demanded, first from the demon, then turning on Castiel.

The angel looked lost and horrified, struggling to find the right words. He couldn't peel his eyes away from the news rolling across the TV screen. "Perhaps they didn't want to chance another mother of God being born-"

"So they wiped out an entire bloodline?" Sam nearly shouted, incredulous "There's never going to be another soul like her's ever again. Why massacre her family?"

"They didn't want to take any chances." Crowley noted quietly.

"...Police are now reportedly searching for possibly the last surviving member of the Hart family, the youngest child and only daughter of Lee and Cristina Hart. Alexandra Hart, 24, is reportedly missing from her apartment in Gaithersburg, Maryland, where police found signs of a struggle. The police are asking the public to report any sightings of her, and we are reminded that time is of the essence. As another possible victim, Alexandra's safety is of the highest priority to international authorities all over the globe..."

"We can't let her see this." Sam said desperately "It'll destroy her."

"God DAMNIT!" Dean roared, kicking the end of Sam's bed. He placed his hands on the back of his head, breathing heavily. Rage filled every muscle of his face. "Those fucking BASTARDS!"

"We'll need to work quickly, if we want to keep her from seeing this." Crowley agreed with Sam.

"How can we not tell her?" Dean demanded "This is her family, she deserves to know –"

"That they were all viciously murdered because of her?" the demon interrupted "Oh, I'm sure that will go over well."

"How do you even tell someone..." Sam started, but dropped off. He looked over at Castiel. "Is there some way to... to bring them back?"

The angel shook his head, still in shock. "It would take at _least_ **all** the powers of heaven to turn back this..." The men looked back at the screen, sadness, regret, and guilt filling their faces.

"...authorities are still searching for why this particular family was targeted and how it was possible to have all the victims murdered at nearly the exact same time. Friends and communities have already begun organizing vigils for the victims, who, with no currently surviving family members, have no one to honor their last wishes. If you are just joining us now, we are reporting live on the discovery of nearly one hundred bodies across the globe, all found dead in their homes this morning, all murdered, and all at almost exactly the same time. Police and authorities have linked all the current victims to one family out of Massachusetts, Lee and Cristina Hart, who all other victims are related to by either blood or marriage..."

The sudden sound of shattering glass had them all spinning to face the door. Behind them, standing in the hall... was Alexandra. Her mouth was open, her face a contortion of disbelief. The remnants of the glass and pitcher Dean had brought to her room the night before lay shattered about her bare feet in a thin puddle of water.

"...88 victims have been discovered so far; the entire Hart-Benitez family brutally murdered in their own homes leaving more questions than answers..."

"Sam! Shut it off!" Dean snapped. Sam scrambled to quickly click off the old television set before he had even finished speaking. But the damage was already done.

"How..." She whispered, so softly it was barely audible. She was still staring at the black screen. "...wh-...what?"

"Alex," Sam spoke first, and all four men moved towards her almost as one. "Alex, … I..." His voice dropped off. What could he even say?

Her gaze flickered from the blank screen to Sam's face, and her mouth opened and closed a few times. Slowly her eyes moved from face to face, reading the anger, frustration, and pity she saw on each one. Her own face was dangerously pale, the shock freezing her cold.

"I... I don't..." She tried to speak again. "Did they say...Lee and Cristina...H-Hart...?"

Sam grabbed her hand, encasing it in his. "I'm... I'm so sorry..."

She looked back at him, not fully registering his words. "No..." She murmured softly, and the frightfully numb feeling that had overwhelmed her began to lift as pain seeped through her every fiber. "No...its not real..." Sam moved closer, reaching out with his opposite hand to touch her shoulder.

"Alex," Dean's voice cracked slightly as he said her name. Sam tried to pull her into his arms, but she yanked herself away from his touch.

"NO!" She yelled, staggering backwards. "It's not... its not true..." Her arms wrapped around her stomach as she hunched over, almost crumpling to the floor.

"Alex, listen to me-" Dean demanded, trying to regain control of the situation before it spiraled out of their hands.

"NO! It's not...they're..." She shook her head in disbelief, and just kept shaking. "No, no no nooo..." She kept muttering softly to herself. Her voice grew in octaves as it dropped in volume, cracking more with each syllable. "It's not true...it's not real..."

Sam tried to approach her again, but she backed away once more, shaking her head, hands clutching at herself as she began to shake all over. She felt physically ill, and her head pounded. She felt like her insides were on fire, and she doubled over as her throat felt like it was being ripped out.

"Nooo..." She wailed softly. Wet eyes looked up at the brothers, then at Crowley. "You said... you said they were _safe_... you said they were ok..." she accused him, begging him with her eyes to tell her what she wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry, love..." Crowley dropped his gaze almost guiltily, shrugging slightly. "They took out my men first before attacking your family-"

"Kevin and Erin?" She interrupted softly, eyes pleading as she looked from face to face desperately. They met her gaze with only sadness. If they even managed to meet her gaze at all. "Christopher?... Sarah?" The water in her eyes threatened to spill over "...Joshua?" Her voice cracked again "Em...Emily?"

No one could bring themselves to answer, but they didn't have to. The pain on their faces was answer enough. She lost her battle with gravity then, falling to her knees.

"Oh god...please...nooo...please..."She whimpered softly under her breath.

Sam moved to crouch beside her, reaching out to touch her. "...Alex...I..." But as soon as his fingertips brushed her skin, a sharp pain shot through her. She cried out, pulling away from him. "Alex..."

"No...NO!" She shouted. "Get away from me!"

"Alex-"

"I said ….. get...AWAY!" She roared.

Suddenly, at her shout, all four men flew backwards, crashing hard into the wall or floor, as if slammed in the stomach by a massive invisible force. Shock and surprise coated all of their faces, but the girl in a heap on the floor didn't even seem to notice. Her shaking palms were pressed against her temples, her fingers curled, knuckles white. She scrambled to her feet then and pivoted on her heels, bolting away down the hall.

"HART!" Crowley called after her, the first to climb to his feet. He blinked out of sight.

"What the hell was that?!" Dean sputtered as he regained the wind that had been knocked from his lungs.

"Her latent powers..." Castiel coughed, standing "...They do not appear to be latent anymore."

Sam pulled himself up with the wall. "We've got to go after her."

The others didn't argue, quickly climbing up and sprinting down the hall.

Crowley appeared in front of her as she ran through the library, and she crashed into him at full speed. Unable to see him through her water filled eyes. He grabbed her forearms, catching her before she fell to the ground. She cried out, trying to hit him with her fists as hard as she could. He held her before him like he was holding a child having a tantrum.

"Hey hey hey." He said softly, tightening his grip on her arms. "Alright, love. Alright." She struggled against his grip, kicking and twisting. "Calm down. Its ok."

"YOU LIED!" She shouted at him, wriggling in his iron grasp "YOU SAID THEY WERE SAFE!" The air around them seemed to quiver at her voice "YOU TOLD ME! YOU LIED!" She kicked at him again, and an audible snap echoed from the ground beneath them. "LIAR! LET ME GO! LET ME GOO! LIAR!"

The room began to shake, splitting the walls with thin spiderweb cracks zipping up and down their length. Books flew off shelves, and lights grew to screaming brightness before shattering with loud pops. The pipes and beams that formed the skeleton of the bunker began to groan loudly, threatening to break. Crowley barely glanced around at the chaos growing around him.

"NO! LET ME GO!" She shouted again, her voice shrill, desperate. The other three men came running in, looking perplexed at the scene unfolding before them. They staggered, trying to maintain their footing in the growing pandemonium.

"Look out!" Sam shouted, shoving his brother out of the way as a massive chunk of plaster dropped with a crash from the ceiling. The brothers fell to the floor for the second time in so many minutes.

"LIAR!" Alex screamed again, ripping and tearing her wrists back and forth, trying so desperately to wriggle from his grasp. The dangling lights whipped about dangerously as the room shook, glass shattered and steel crumpled up like tin foil.

But the demon held firmly, refusing to let her go. "Hey. HEY." He snarled at her. "HEY!" She looked up at him, barely able to make him out through the pain that immersed her senses. "They're gone."

"NO!" Two bookshelves flew apart at her shout, slamming into the others and toppling them like dominos, scattering books and artifacts everywhere.

"They're gone now. There's nothing you can do." His face was hard and unforgiving. "They're gone."

"NO! No, you're LYING! NO!" She shouted at him, but her movements were becoming weaker and weaker. As her thrashing began to subside, so did the quaking of the bunker. "I...I don't believe you..." She choked softly, barely above a whisper. The room had grown all but still, save for a few papers fluttering to the ground. "..I don't …. I ... I can't..."

The tears broke free finally, gushing like waterfalls down her face and dripping off her chin. Her shoulders shook, her throat closed up to a tiny hole she could barely draw air through. Each breath was a shuddering, screeching testament to her pain, her body quivering. Slowly, she lost her strength, dropping back down to her knees before the King of Hell. The hunters and angel moved quickly over to the pair, dodging debris.

"Alexandra..." Castiel reached them first, the brothers just behind, and fell to his knees beside her. Crowley released his grip upon her finally, and gingerly, the angel reached out to her. She collapsed into his chest, burying her face inside his trench coat, sobbing. Surprised, he awkwardly dropped his arms about her. As she sobbed, he tightened his grip reflexively.

"He's lying..." She whispered into his chest "I don't believe him...I can't..." She drew her hands up as if to block her ears with them, but instead curled her fingers around the worn fabric of his clothes. "He's ...lying..."

Crowley looked down at them with a complicated expression on his face. The angel glanced up at him grimly, then looked back at the brothers, drawing his arms about her even more. Protectively. As if he could shield her from the pain with his body.

"I am... sorry ... this tragedy has befallen you..." The angel murmured to her softly. "This was not a burden you should have had to bear..."

"It's my fault..." She breathed "Its... oh god,... its my fault..."

"Hey, don't do that." Dean growled, coming closer "Don't do that to yourself. Its not your fault."

"It IS." She insisted, her voice cracking. "They're...They're de-...because of me..." She couldn't even bring herself to say the word. "Oh god... Emily... Joshy..." Her words were broken, as was she, and she felt so weak she couldn't even raise her head from Castiel's chest. "...What have I done?"

"Nothing." Dean declared firmly. He dropped down next to Castiel, placing his hand on her shoulder. "You did nothing wrong. It's not your fault." She sobbed softly, too weak to even turn her red rimmed eyes to look at him as he spoke. "Those fucking bastards did this." His voice shook with rage "And we're gonna make sure they pay."

Castiel retracted one hand, using it to push the damp hair back from her face. She couldn't move, could barely breathe. All she could do was quiver as the tears streamed down her face.

 _88_ , she thought to herself silently. _The news said 88 victims...all related to... but... who..._ Her heart felt as though it were wrapped in a steel vice. Each beat dug the teeth deeper into her tender flesh, sending a fresh wave of pain pulsing through her. She didn't want to know. She couldn't bare to know. Already she felt as though her body were just falling apart around her.

"You're bleeding." Crowley pointed out softly.

The group looked down at her feet as one, finding the soles ripped and bloody, shards of glass poking deep into her soft flesh. She didn't look. She didn't even feel the pain. She didn't care.

"We should remove as much glass as possible before I heal her." Castiel told the others. His voice sounded muffled and distant to her ears.

Sam dropped down next to her too, gently picking up one ankle and studying the glass embedded there. "Let's take her to her bed."

 _Not my bed,_ she thought dully, feeling her body being lifted but no longer really aware. _Just some bed. Not_ _ **my**_ _bed... Not my home...Not …..my family..._

Castiel carried her in his arms, but she was as limp as a fresh corpse, her head propped against his shoulder, her arms dangling wherever gravity pulled them. Her eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing, a heavy glaze greying her sky blue irises. Had she been more conscious of the sensations, she might have found it odd how she could feel so incredibly empty and numb while at the same time feeling the most pain in every part of her everything that she had ever felt. When they reached room 610, the angel laid her gingerly on the bed, her blood drenched feet propped on old towels.

"This might hurt a bit," Sam warned her, but she wasn't looking. Didn't hear him. Didn't see him. She was in a fog of her own making, the outside world just a distorted blur through watery glass.

As gently as he could, he pulled out the shards of glass with a pair of pliers. She didn't even flinch. His hand were soon slick with her blood, and the other's watched on quietly. Dean stood by her head, one hand clasped on her shoulder. Crowley stood behind Sam, watching with the wary eyes of a guard dog protecting his master. And Castiel stood almost forlornly by the bedside, a haunted look filling the lines of his grim face. No one said a word; probably because no one knew what to say.

"Ok." Sam murmured after a while, putting down the pliers and wiping his hands with a towel.

Castiel reached over and lightly touched her leg. A soft light filled the air around her feet, and when he removed his hand, the ghastly wounds were gone. The girl still didn't move, her breath slight, her eyes hollow.

"Alexandra..." Castiel started, but then dropped off, tightening his lips.

She didn't react to his voice calling her name any more than she had to them pulling the glass from her feet.

"...We're going to find who did this..." Sam this time, his voice grim but determined. "We're going to hunt them down-"

"And make them pay." Dean finished.

"Why?" Her lips barely moved as she spoke, as if someone else controlled them, and her voice was softer than a breath of air.

"Because whoever could do something like this is a monster." Dean growled "And we're in the business of killing monsters."

"Why?" She echoed again, causing the brothers to exchange confused looks. Crowley took a step closer to the bed.

"Why what, love?" He asked softly. She didn't reply at first, her lips remaining slightly parted.

"Why?" She whispered "...Why did they leave me?" So quiet were her words that they all had to lean closer to hear her.

"They didn't have a choice love." The demon replied, glancing at the others.

"Why?" She murmured softly again, as if she didn't hear him. Again they exchanged glances, unsure what to do with her question. Concern filtered through all their eyes. Slowly, her head turned, and she met Crowley's gaze, her deadened eyes dry, puffy, and bloodshot. "Why didn't they take me?" Her voice broke and a sob wracked through her body "Why didn't they kill me?"

"Because they're sadistic assholes." Dean growled, growing angry rather than letting himself feel the pain and sadness threatening to rip him in two.

"Please..." She breathed, and they all leaned in again.

"Alex?" Sam sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, touching her hand. Wrapping his fingers about her's. They felt so cold. Her eyes turned to stare at the ceiling.

"Please..." Another sob, "Please...finish it...what they started...a-and... kill me...kill _me_...please..."

The silence the men fell into was so palpable it could've choked the life out of them. Every single one stiffened visibly, their jaws tightening, their eyes filling with rage, or guilt, or sorrow.

"Please..." she begged softly "I don't want to do this anymore... please..." She squeezed her eyes closed, tears dribbling out the corners. "I don't want...I can't...please...oh god...please...kill me...just make it stop..."

Dean couldn't take it anymore. Rage, frustration, and guilt filled every last inch of him. Spinning on heel, he stormed out of the room, punching the wall as he left. Sam watched him go, feeling torn. He glanced at Castiel, who nodded.

"We'll stay with her." The angel confirmed.

"I'll be back" He told her softly. Sam stood, following after his brother. Keeping him safe.

Crowley moved to sit on her bedside. He reached over and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand lightly. Her tears fell silently now, aside from the occasional sniffle. When she cracked her eyes open, he met her pale blues with deep hazel-green.

"Please..." she whispered, hoping perhaps the demon would be willing to grant her wish.

"Sorry, love." He murmured, taking up her hand in his. "That is the one thing I can not do."

"Its what I want..." she choked, glancing over at Castiel. He could barely meet her gaze. She looked back at the demon. "You _said_...anything I want..."

"Almost anything then." He amended.

"You are the last remaining of your entire bloodline." The angel added, and Crowley shot him a dark look. "You must live on."

"Why?" She whispered, his words crippling her heart anew.

"To avenge your family." Crowley offered "To bring their killers to justice."

"Won't bring them back..."

"Because they are survived through you." Castiel stated firmly. She turned her despairing gaze to him. He met her eyes with an unwavering resolve this time. "Because as long as you live, so do they."

She said nothing to that, but her quivering lips tightened ever so slightly, and she rolled her gaze back to the ceiling. Dribbles of tears ran down to her ears, dripping onto the pillow below, and she felt the coldness of her heart seeping into her soul. Outside the bunker, clouds gathered, and a heavy rain fell.

Sam found Dean pacing in the mess of the library, the older brother stomping back and forth in a freshly worn path. His hands were balled into fists of rage, and his face was drawn into a hard, angry scowl.

"Dean-"

"DON'T, Sammy." He cut him off sharply. "Just... don't." Dean paused for a moment beside a smaller table, shutting his eyes as if trying to calm himself. He failed. "DAMNIT!" He shouted, shoving the table with all his strength and sending it catapulting across the room. He spun and stormed over to the center of the room. "GOD!" He grabbed a book and threw it across the room. "CHUCK! YOU ASSHOLE!" He roared at the top of his lungs "GET YOUR FUCKING ASS DOWN HERE! YOU HEAR ME?" He shoved the shattered remains of a chair out of his path. "GET DOWN HERE! NOW!"

"Dean-" Sam tried again.

"Hey! HEYY! DO YOU HEAR ME?! GET DOWN HERE!" Dean continued to roar, ignoring his brother. "YOU GET DOWN HERE AND FIX THIS!"

"DEAN!" Sam shouted, striding over and grabbing his brother by the shoulders. "He's not going to answer you."

"He's gonna hear me!" Dean declared, shoving Sam's arms away. "This is his goddamn fault. His fucking feathered freaks killing innocent people. His fucking brilliant plan blowing up in our god damn faces." He stomped past his brother. "Oh he's going to hear me, and he's gonna come fix this fucking mess he left behind."

Sam sighed deeply, running one hand through his hair. "I think he made it pretty clear; he's not coming back this time..."

"So what, we're just going to have to bury our noses every time his giant winged babies throw a temper tantrum?!" Dean snarled. He shook his head viciously. "Nuh-uh. No fucking way. Not happening."

"We'll figure something out." Sam assured him. Though he didn't seem entirely convinced himself.

Dean stopped, putting one angry hand on his hip and running the other across his face. "How, Sammy?" He growled softly. "How are we going to fix this one? Kill all the angels in heaven?" He dropped his hand exasperatedly "Storm the pearly gates and bring back her family?" He turned to face his brother. "What are we supposed to do when the so called _good guys_ end up being worse than the bad guys?"

Sam didn't answer, dropping his gaze to the floor. Dean stormed over to the shattered remains of the liquor cabinet. He picked up one of the unbroken bottles from the floor and popped it open, chugging it down as if he were stranded in a desert and it was his first sip of water in ages. Turning, he swept his gaze over the mess of the library. He froze, as if really seeing it for the first time. Heaving the heaviest sigh of his life, he took another swig of the amber liquor and walked back over to the table map, brushing debris off its surface.

"And what are we supposed to do about this?" He grumbled, throwing one hand out and gesturing to the room. "Nail everything to the ground?"

"That seems an impractical solution." Came the gruff reply from the doorway.

Both brothers turned to regard the angel and demon standing there.

"Alex?" Sam asked, taking a worried step towards them.

"Resting." Castiel reassured him, then looked guilty. "I... I used a spell to put her to sleep."

Dean waved away his concern. "Probably the best solution we have right now." He looked over at him. "What the hell just happened?"

The angel considered the room, grim faced. "It would appear she inadvertently tapped into her power when she suffered severe emotional upheaval. Her soul responded reflexively to her pain, causing the effect we saw."

"That's a nice way to put it." Dean grumbled.

"Does that mean the flood gates are open?" Sam asked "Will she have access to her powers now? Be able to utilize and control them?"

Castiel sighed "...We won't know until she wakes."

"What about her resonance?" Dean pressed, resting both palms on the table, dropping his head. "Will that be full force now too?"

"I'm not sure-"

"You three really are _idiots_." Crowley interrupted snidely, tucking his hands into his suit pockets.

Sam and Castiel looked at him in confusion, while Dean shot daggers at him with his eyes. Crowley studied each of their faces in turn, then rolled his eyes and sighed defeatedly.

"She's already resonating."

Sam frowned at him. "How do you know?"

"Perhaps you morons didn't notice because you're always a hormonally driven bag of crazy," the demon sneered "But generally speaking demons and even angels don't find much true empathy for humans. Hell, demons aren't even capable of a full range of emotions." His face grew complicated then "However...when she began to..." He shuffled slightly, sighing "I _felt_ it. I felt her pain as acutely as if it were my own. As if I had taken a whole Red Cross donation dose of human blood again." He glanced at the trio "Didn't you think it odd that you started remembering every loss and sadness and pain and misery you had ever felt at the exact moment she did? Didn't you numbskulls notice how strongly you felt the desire to comfort her, to protect her, to shield her from that pain? As if you couldn't even imagine doing anything else?" He turned to Castiel "Did you not notice how very _human_ you felt at that moment?"

They all fell silent for a time, the brothers considering this. Castiel shuffled his feet hesitantly.

"I have found myself...surprisingly human lately..." the angel offered, looking around at the others. "Perhaps that is why I kissed her-"

"YOU kissed her!?" Crowley interrupted with surprise. "Oh so what, the angel can have his way with her now? How is that fair?"

The Winchesters looked at him with disbelief. He shuffled embarrassedly again. "I assumed in hindsight that it was the affects of the large quantities of alcohol in my system at the time-"

"Alright, new rule." Dean growled "No kissing. ESPECIALLY not you." He pointed at the King of Hell who rolled his eyes and pouted. "And you're not allowed to be alone with her anymore." He pointed to Castiel. "No one is."

"What do we do now?" Sam asked distantly, not really expecting an answer. "Help her deal with her entire family being massacred? Keep trying to find a solution to her resonance? Find her a boyfriend?" He scoffed at each notion.

"We can find out why the angels decided to take out her entire family." Dean growled "And which ones. Then we can stick a blade through their fucking hearts."

"Perhaps the intent was to draw her out into the open." Crowley suggested "Get her to go looking for her family...or at least their bodies..."

"From what I've gathered while searching for more answers, there are two sects of angels forming in heaven." Castiel told the others. "One wishes to embrace this new God mother and see her as a new idol and leader they should be worshiping and protecting. And the other, larger sect believes her existence is an abomination and insult to our father, and her creation was a mistake that must be erased."

Dean looked at him incredulously. "And this didn't seem important to bring up before?"

Castiel glanced down at his feet guiltily. "It... it did not seem of import at the time...it was just whispers..." He returned his gaze to the brothers. "But there is more."

"That doesn't sound good." Sam noted.

The angel sighed "There are... rumors... circulating about the leader of the larger sect... They say he is very powerful, and it has been suggested he is the true ruler of heaven now that our father is gone..."

"Why him?" Dean asked "What's so special about this guy?"

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck. "It would seem...well, the rumors suggest... that this leader is..." He paused looking around at the gathered men "...an archangel." He shook his head "But there is little evidence or proof leading credence to this belief. Just rumors."

"Which is why you didn't tell us sooner." Sam concluded, and the angel nodded.

"From what I've heard, the smaller sect seems to be hiding out in heaven right now. The other sect is mostly on earth, split between searching for the Mother of God and trying to sift out the so-called 'traitors'." Castiel added.

"The good news (if there is any good news about this whole shit storm) is that now we know exactly who we have to go after." Dean announced, rubbing his knuckles. "And I, for one, am looking forward to cracking open this son of a bitch's little haloed head."

"Could he be an archangel?" Crowley inquired, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Dean shook his head before Castiel could answer. "All of those dicks are dead. Or powerless."

"Except for one. That we know of." Sam pointed out morosely. The others looked at him. "Michael."

"Michael's in the cage." Dean reminded his brother. "Locked up tight, key thrown away."

Sam crossed his arms and shrugged. "Well, if the rumors turn out to be true, it has to be him. I mean, Gabriel and Raphael are dead, and Lucifer lost all his powers before Chuck shipped him off to god knows where."

The older Winchester turned to Crowley. "Could they have busted him out?"

The King of Hell shrugged. "Cage is untouched, last I checked. Doesn't mean he's not issuing orders from the inside though. But you are all passing over a key problem." They looked at him, brows knitted. "The girl?" He reminded them "What are you going to do with her?" The trio exchanged confused looks, and the demon rolled his eyes. "You're planning on hunting down this mystery leader, probably the guy who ordered her family executed. Who's going to watch her? And are you really planning on keeping her here?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Dean demanded defensively.

The demon sighed exasperatedly. "Because it won't be long before the angels track you idiots down. They know you are the ones hiding her. If they have even a third of the power and resources of heaven at their disposal, then it won't be long before they find your precious little bungalow. And if they can't track you two clowns, then they have their own little angel on the inside right there." He gestured to Castiel, who frowned angrily. "They've tracked you down before. They'll do it again." Crowley shook his head. "We are vastly outnumbered. We need more allies."

"Yeah, well, we've got no one." Dean growled. "We're on our own. Just like always. Frankly, I'm not even too pleased you're still hanging around, because I trust you about as far as I can throw you."

"Well that's because you throw like a girl." The demon retorted, smirking.

"He's got a point though." Sam interrupted before Dean could begin bickering with the demon again."Even if we wanted to go out and hunt this supposed archangel, there's only us. And if none of us can be trusted alone with Alex anymore, then that means only two of us can be out of the bunker at a time." He sighed, shaking his head. "We've always been the underdogs, but I don't really like those odds."

Dean rubbed his face. "Let's put our contacts on high alert for angel activity." He suggested, picking his way across the room towards the kitchen. "Then two of us can be out at a time following leads." The others followed him, listening intently. "We'll have to split human/angel and human/demon when we go after leads, so that if the team in the field finds this son of a bitch, the other team can get there fast."

"And leave the girl unguarded?" Snarked the demon "That seems smart."

Dean pulled his phone of a charger plugged into the kitchen wall. "Its what we've got right now." He grumbled, though even he didn't look entirely convinced of his plan.

"Could we convince the smaller sect of angels to help us out?" Sam asked Castiel.

The angel shrugged slightly. "Hard to say. Most are preoccupied with staying hidden. It'd be very difficult to even contact them. And as Dean has said before, the more people who know about her and her whereabouts, the more dangerous it becomes for her."

"It's worth a shot though, trying to reach them." Sam pressed. "Even if its just for their eyes and ears."

Castiel nodded. "I'll see what I can do." He assured the brothers, then turned, disappearing with a flutter of wings.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Always the mission impossibles with you lot." He grumbled. "I'll put my boys on the hunt for this supposed archangel, and put extra security on the bloody cage." He, too, disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving the Winchesters alone in the kitchen.

Sam looked over at his brother. "I think we should get the Tablet." He told him.

Dean shook his head. "It's useless, Sammy." He told him "We don't have a prophet to read it, and taking it out is basically like waving a big ass banner over our heads saying HERE WE ARE, COME GET US!"

"But Dean, its gotta have all the answers we're looking for!" Sam argued. "We can remove the warding miles and miles away from here, and try to decipher it a bit, and then just keep moving around-"

"Like you just said, we don't have the man power." Dean interrupted. "We can't be searching for the archangel, trying to reach heaven, guard the girl, and move around reading the tablet all at the same time. We're already stretched thin enough as it is."

Sam sighed, looking exhausted. "That damn Tablet probably has all the answers we could ever want, and its just sitting uselessly in a warded box in our basement."

Dean shrugged one shoulder, scrolling through his contacts. "Yeah well, the last time we looked at it, the sky nearly split in two and every angel in heaven got a sneak preview at the prophecy Chuck left behind." He clicked on one and put the phone up to his ear. "Its the whole reason we're in this mess. Its too unpredictable to just sit and read casually." He reminded Sam as the line rang.

The younger Winchester sighed again and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll check the lore again." He said defeatedly. "Maybe there's something we missed."


	12. Run far, run fast

She woke as if from a stale dream, her body lingering in that strange ethereal state between sleep and wakefulness. Inside her chest she felt the hollow, tingling feeling that comes when one cried themselves to sleep the night before. Her blue eyes blinked slowly, realizing the room was empty and she was alone. So very alone. The sensation of loneliness threatened to crush her. Fear tickled at her heart, and she found herself craving company like a parched man craves water. She felt as though she had slept for a hundred years, and yet didn't feel rested at all. Instead, she felt numb, her senses still dulled, tears lingering behind her eyes. There was no clock, so she couldn't tell how long she had been asleep. Hours? Minutes? She didn't even remember falling asleep. Slowly she sat up, her head three hundred pounds heavier, the air around her feeling all too thin. The memory of her family's death lingered at the front of her mind, but seemed distant, as if it was someone else's story she was over-hearing. Another tragedy on the news. It had nothing to do with her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, moving slowly, weighed down by her deepening despair. When she stood, she felt as though a coat of flour was falling off her skin, and as it slipped away she felt a little clearer and more awake. Any other day she might have questioned this sensation. Today was not any other day though.

The crushing loneliness and despair drove her out the door and down the hall, movements slow and heavy. Her ears picked up the sounds of conversation, distant and muted, but clear enough for her to make out the words.

"And are you really planning on keeping her here?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

An exasperated sigh. "Because it won't be long before the angels track you idiots down. They know you are the ones hiding her. If they have even a third of the power and resources of heaven at their disposal, then it won't be long before they find your precious little bungalow. And if they can't track you two clowns, then they have their own little angel on the inside right there..."

Guilt stabbed at her chest, and she stifled a sob, retreating back down the hallway. Away from the voices.

"...We are vastly outnumbered..." the muffled voice was quickly fading.

She was doing it again, she realized. Putting others in danger. They were about to throw themselves onto the fire, all for her sake. She put one hand on the wall to steady herself. What would happen if they were found? Fear strangled her, and she closed her eyes and swallowed hard to calm her nerves. They would be killed. Like her family. Their memory still tore at her core. No...she wouldn't do that to them. She couldn't. No one else would die because of her.

Staggering back into room 610, she walked over to the closet. She pulled out a huge handbag and began stuffing it with clothes. If anyone else had to die to end this pointless slaughter, it would be her. And she knew the brothers and Castiel wouldn't let her sacrifice herself for them. So she had to get away. Had to keep them safe. Her hands shook as she rammed item after item into the bag. Underwear. Socks. Shirts. Pants. She didn't really know what she was going to do. Where she was going to go. But she knew she couldn't stay here. She stuffed her feet into a pair of shoes, pulled a large hat onto her head, and hoisted the bag onto her shoulder as she turned to leave. The picture frame on the small table in the corner made her freeze. Again sorrow clawed at her chest, and her lips quivered, her knees weakened. Slowly she stepped over, picking up the frame as she looked down at her parents' and brothers' smiling faces. Tears slipped into the corners of her eyes, but then she shook her head and sniffed loudly. Stuffing the frame into the bag, she turned and skirted out the door.

She moved slower as she neared the main room. But no matter how she strained her ears, she couldn't hear anything. Inching her way along the wall, she glanced around the corner. The destruction before her caused a soft gasp of shock. As if it were a half-forgotten shadow of a memory, she almost recalled the pulsing pain and sorrow that seemed to rip through her and out into the world. The sounds of the room being torn apart echoed faintly in her mind, but only a thin, sad frown formed on her lips. If this had been her fault, she couldn't fully remember how or why. And she looked on it now for the first time, confused and disbelieving. It was impossible. She wasn't remembering it right... But the room _was_ empty, so she picked her way carefully around the debris and towards the stairs. A small, upturned box filled with cash and wallets caught her eye on a ground near the stairs, and she quickly grabbed as much as the cash as she could, stuffing it in her bag. She lingered as long as she dared before sneaking up the stairs. As quietly as she could, she pulled open the front door, wincing at the sound of the metal scraping upon metal. She didn't dare close it behind her, hurriedly darting out into the entryway and up another set of stairs to the front door. Quickly she yanked that one open too and darted out, jogging down the gravel path through the rain the drizzled from the sky. Pulling her hat down further over her head, she hunched her shoulders against the rain and moved on.

When she had made it halfway down the road, she found the strength to glance back over her shoulder. She was almost surprised not to see the brothers or Castiel standing there, watching her leave or making some effort to stop her. Hopefully by the time they noticed she was gone, she would be far enough away that it wouldn't matter. Hopefully they didn't have some spell or magic mojo to track her down again. Hopefully this would keep them safe. She paused, hesitating as she stared at her last sanctuary. The last place on earth she had ever expected to be, and now the last place where she had ever felt safe. Steeling her will, she turned and stomped down the path, her resolution seeming to echo in the air as a rumble of thunder crackled in the sky overhead.

"SAM?! SAMMY!" Came the shout, echoing around the bunker.

Sam jumped, dropping the book in his hands and making his way towards the hallway where his brother's yell echoed from. He would recognize that tone anywhere; something was wrong. Every inch of him sizzled with electricity, ready to leap into action, and his long legs carried him quickly down the hall.

"Dean!" He called out, looking around. A door slammed nearby, and Sam made his way towards it. Just as he reached the bathroom door, it swung open again, smashing against the wall.

"She's gone!" Dean snapped.

"What?"

"Her room's empty, she's not here!"

"Maybe she's just somewhere else in the bunker." Sam offered desperately, looking around and making his way quickly back towards the library. Dean followed a few paces behind.

"I thought she was under a sleep spell?!" Dean growled, looking back and forth as if she might be in any corner.

"Me too..." Sam agreed worriedly.

Sam had just begun picking up the mess of the library after they had called most of their contacts and Dean had gone to check on her. It hadn't been more than half an hour since they had put her in the bed.

The older Winchester stomped into the library behind Sam, glaring about. "Then how the hell is she walking around."

"Maybe it didn't work on her." Sam looked around as Dean walked over to the garage door, swinging it open. His eye caught sight of the main door ajar. "Dean!" He called, pointing.

Both half-ran up the stairs and out the front door which was also ajar. They stood, pivoting about on the damp driveway, looking around as if hoping to see her skipping rocks on one of the puddles spotting the ground.

"DAMNIT!" Dean roared "What the hell was she thinking?"

"She's confused, and hurting, maybe she-"

"CAS!" Dean interrupted, shouting at the top of his lungs. "CAS! GET DOWN HERE! CAS!"

A flutter of wings announced the angel's arrival. "Dean, I need more time to-"

"She's gone, Cas!" Sam interrupted him.

The angel looked at him, bewildered. "What? No, that's impossible. I put a sleep spell on her."

"Well she's not in the bunker, and the front door was wide open." Dean snarled. "So either she's sleep walking, or your damn spell wore off."

Castiel looked around, his hardened brow thoroughly knitted. "Impossible." He said again, but already he sounded less sure of himself. He looked between the brothers. "Crowley must have taken her, and made it appear like she left of her own accord."

Dean and Sam looked at each other, jaws tightening. "When I find that red-eyed bastard I'm going to put a bullet between his eyes." Dean snarled "I knew we shouldn't have trusted him."

Sam was already turning to go back into the bunker. "We'll summon him and find out where he took her."

His brother was already pulling out his phone. "Screw summoning. I'm calling the bitch."

"Dean, that may not be the wisest-" Castiel began.

But the phone was already pressed to his ear. It rang twice before being picked up. "Where is she you son of a bitch?" Dean demanded before the demon could even say 'hello'.

"I do hope you're talking about a different 'she' and not the 'she' I think you're talking about." Came the iconic british voice from behind the boys. As they spun around to face him, Crowley pulled his phone away from his ear, hitting the 'End Call' button before tucking it into his pocket.

"Give me one good reason not to gank your sorry ass right now!" Snarled Dean, drawing the demon knife from his belt and striding forward. Sam grabbed his arm, holding him back.

The King of Hell looked between the brothers. "Oh for fuck's sake," He shook his head, face quickly becoming angry. "You LOST her? Are you...You've got to be friggin' kidding me! Can you bloody imbeciles do ANYTHING right?"

"You don't have her," Sam concluded, yanking his brother back, looking at him. "He doesn't have her. Which means, she ran."

"Impossible!" Castiel interjected again "He's lying. I put a sleep spell on her. There is no way she just walked out of her own accord."

"Perhaps you morons need to take another look at your bloody living room." Snarled the demon angrily. "Obviously she's more powerful than your damn pigeon here." The other three looked between each other, confused. Crowley rolled his eyes. "It wore off, you stupid walking cretins. It wore off, and because YOU weren't watching her, she took off."

"Why would she leave?" Castiel asked, confused. "She must know that this is the safest place for her right now."

"She did exactly what the angels expected her to do," Sam realized "She found out about her family's death and she ran." He looked over at Dean "She's going to go find her family."

"She can't have gotten far." He growled, storming over to the bunker entrance. "Let's go get her and bring her back before something less friendly finds her."

"Then you better hope you find her before I do." Crowley hissed, turning his back and striding away from the trio "Because if I find her first, she's coming with me."

And with a snap, the demon disappeared.

"Damnit!" Dean cursed again, kicking the gravel.

"I'll go ahead and look for her." Castiel told them. "Hopefully I'll find her before Crowley does."

With a flutter of wings, he was gone too.

Sam gritted his teeth and ran after his brother back inside and down to the garage where the Impala was parked.

About an hour ahead of them, down the road, Alex had managed to catch a ride to the nearest town. From there, she had found a bus stop and a map. The rain had let up some, only drizzling overhead with the occasional soft rumble of distant thunder. It looked like her best option was to get to Kansas City. From there she could get just about anywhere. But it was an over four hour car ride. Didn't seem like any buses went quite that far. She pulled out the cash she had grabbed from the bunker. She'd stretch the cash as far as she could, getting on buses heading East. Eventually one would get her to Kansas City. From there, maybe she could catch a train. Hopefully she had enough cash. Otherwise she'd be hitchhiking the whole way.

Standing at the bus stop, contemplating her options, she didn't notice the silver haired man staring at her from behind the ticket counter. His worn eyes hardened as he watched her studying the map, and quietly he made his way out from behind the counter. There were only a few other patrons about, a homeless man sleeping on the bench, and a mother with her young son walking past in the opposite direction. By the time he had snuck up behind her, the mother was already around the corner. Too far away to notice a silver sword drop into the man's hand.

The hairs on the back of her neck shot up at the last second, and she spun, gasping as the man raised his sword. She couldn't help but shout out as she fell backwards, just barely dodging his attack, and scrambled on all fours away from him.

"Abomination!" The man hissed, slashing out at her again.

She managed to roll out of the way, and jumped to her feet. Lightening cracked over their heads as the man advanced again, sword first. She turned and started running, digging her feet as deep into the soft ground as she could. But she had barely gotten a few feet when the man suddenly appeared in front of her. She shouted out again, but it was muffled by another rumble of thunder.

"Stop! Please!" She cried as he grabbed one of her arms. He raised his other to strike her down.

Frantic, she raised her other hand as if to block the blow. Suddenly, a hand grab his raised one, twisting it and stabbing downwards. The man had to release her arm to defend himself, pivoting to face the homeless man who had been on the bench before. His eyes flashed black and he kicked out at the silver haired man.

Alex didn't wait to see who would win. She grabbed her fallen bag and ran, high tailing it back into the rain. She ran and ran until she could hardly draw breath into her lungs anymore and she was drenched from head to toe. Gasping for air, she fell against the side of an old building next to the road. She hardly trusted herself to stay there though, and staggered along its side. A sliding door was half-open on its opposite side, and she practically fell in. Outside, the thunder roared and the rain picked up.

"Oh my god, are you ok?" Came a voice.

She jerked, straightening and flattening herself against the wall. A woman was approaching her, concern lacing her leathery tanned skin, wiping at her oily hands with a dirty rag.

"S-stay back!" Alex stammered, raising one hand fearfully.

The woman froze, the raised her own hands innocently. "Alright, sweetie. Didn't mean to frighten you..." She said softly "My name's Darla. This is my barn you ducked into."

Alex looked around, confused. Her wet hair was plastered to her cheeks and neck, and her hat dripped steadily onto the ground. Her heart was still racing in her chest.

"You ok, sweetie?" The woman, Darla, asked again, taking a small step closer. "You look like you've got hell chasin' you."

Alex almost laughed at her words. "Something like that." She breathed, still panting from her run.

Darla stopped a few paces short of her. "What kinda trouble you get yourself into?" She asked a bit warily. "I don't need the law or any biker gangs shootin' up my property."

She shook her head "I'm sorry, just give me a minute to catch my breath and I'll get out of your way."

The older woman looked Alexandra up and down. "You'll catch your death you go runnin' around in this storm." She told her, then sighed. "Damn my old heart... Come inside with me. I'll get you a hot meal while we wait out the storm and you can dry off."

Alex was already shaking her head before she finished. "I can't...I have to..." She hesitated, glancing out the sliding door at the pouring rain. "I have to keep moving."

The woman considered her again. "What's your name, dear? Where you headed?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "...Victoria. And home...hopefully..."

"Well, Victoria, based upon that accent, home's a long way off." Darla pointed out light heartedly. "You won't be gettin there today."

"Thank you, but it's better if I keep moving." She told her. "It's...complicated..."

"Can I give you a lift at least?" Darla offered, jerking one thumb over her shoulder at a worn looking truck. "May not look like much, but it still runs. Where you headed?"

Again Alex hesitated, even though the woman had given her no reason to fear her. "...East.."

Darla chuckled "That's a mighty broad direction." She cocked her head to the side. "Well, if you are insistin on moving, and I'm insistin that you need to stay out of the ran, looks like the only thing I can do is drive you as far east as I can. Couple towns over at least."

"I can't ask you to do that-"

"You ain't askin'. I'm tellin' you that's what we're doin'." Darla interrupted her. "Stand by, I'm gonna get you a towel and a sandwich, then we can go."

"You're very kind, but I really-"

"Hush now." Darla interrupted her again. "Either take it or take the law, because I'm sure the cops will drive you whichever way you wanna go too." That silenced the younger woman, and Darla smiled. "Had a feelin' you might be too fond of our boys in blue. But you look like a girl who's just fallen on hard times."

Shocked into silence, Alex rubbed her wet arms. "...thank you..."

Darla waved off her words. "Just doin' what we all should." The woman returned. "Won't leave a wet, young thing like yourself to slide off the edge." She smiled kindly "Gotta hold on tight to each other."

With that the woman turned and went through a small side door into an adjoining building. A few minutes later, she returned with the promised sandwich and towel and coaxed Alex into the truck. Alex wrapped the towel about herself as the woman turned on the beat up old vehicle, its engine sputtering to life with loud groans and coughs. Slowly they pulled out of the barn into the rain.

"...Yes, sire... Ye-... I'm sorry, she-... N-no... of course sire..." The homeless man mumbled into the cup of crimson liquid, hunched over it cautiously.

Around him, the rain poured off the edge's of the bus station's roof, slowly letting up. Thunder rumbled even more distantly than before, and the noon sky was beginning to brighten. The dead angel's blood pooled about his feet, and the demon's black eyes flashed back to normal as he lowered the cup.

"Damn." He grumbled under his breath. Sighing, he tossed the cup in a nearby trashcan, wiping his hands together and turning around back towards the body. He froze in place, eyes wide, fear plain to read. "...Damn.." He mumbled again.

"Something you'd like to share?" Dean asked with a twisted grin, twirling the demon blade in his hand. Sam stood at his shoulder, a tight scowl on his lips.

"...Ummm..." The demon backed away slowly.

"See, we're looking for a friend of ours." Dean continued, stepping over the angel's corpse. "And I think you might have seen her."

The man cleared his throat nervously. "Ah...yeah...m-maybe I did..." He wiped his bloody hands on his dirt clad pants. "...What's in it f-for me?"

"How about we don't kill you?" Sam threatened, looming closer to the frightened demon.

"Ok, ok... let's be civil about this, huh?" The demon stammered quickly. "She was here, y-yeah. An hour ago, tops! But s-she ran off when that haloed prick attacked her." He gestured to the angel, then himself "I-I saved her! Y-you sh-should be thanking me!"

"Oh, well then, in that case, thank you!" Dean exclaimed, smiling. The demon breathed a sigh of relief. Until the Winchester stabbed the blade between his ribs. As the body crumpled to the floor, he turned to his brother. "We're close. Call Cas, let him know."

They stepped over the bodies and made their way back to the waiting Impala.

As they drove down the road, windshield wipers swiping back and forth, the women sat in silence, listening to the rain and the old engine rumble.

"Damn weather." Darla grumbled finally. "It wasn' even supposed to rain today. Supposed to be sunny skies all week." She smiled a little "Guess you can't predict Mother Nature."

Alex nodded absent-mindedly, her thoughts somewhere else. Darla glanced over at her, and couldn't help but notice the deep sorrow set into her face. She opened her mouth to say more, but closed it. She didn't want to pry. Wasn't her place. Thunder rolled across the dark skies, and Darla sighed.

"Can't even tell its past noon now. Looks near dark as twilight." She noted, peering up at the sky out the windshield. "I was gonna drive you until the rain stops at least, but I'm not thinkin' that's about to happen anytime soon..." She glanced over at her passenger again. "Why don't you get some shut eye? You look tired."

The younger woman glanced over at her, then pulled the towel tighter around her. "Maybe I'll try..." She said softly.

Darla nodded, tapping the steering wheel. Again she opened her mouth, then closed it. Then sighed again. "I'm not wantin' to pry or nothin'..." She started hesitantly "But you look like you've got one hell of a story."

Alex managed a weak smile, so small it barely moved her lips. "You could say that..."

They drove on in silence for a few minutes more.

"...Wanna talk about it?" Darla pressed.

She shook her head, dropping her eyes down to her hands in her lap.

"Alright, alright... that's fine..." She shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "So where's home?"

"Near Boston." Alex offered softly.

"Never been." Darla commented "That's a long road ahead of you. Might be faster to fly, if you got the means." She chuckled quietly. "Much faster than walkin'."

The younger woman nodded, then turned and looked out the window. Darla glanced at her, alternating between studying her passenger and looking at the road.

"...You got family there?"

Alexandra felt her throat close up and her chest grew tight. She clenched her jaw and swallowed hard, fighting back the tears in her eyes. It was all she could do not to break down completely, let alone answer the driver. Her hands shook in her lap, and in the window she could just make out her pale face and red-rimmed eyes. She sniffled softly, pulling the towel tighter about herself and wiping at her nose. The familiar sorrow wrapped around her again, threatening to drag her down into darkness.

"...Ok, alright... sorry..." Darla mumbled awkwardly, shifting in her seat "I'll mind my own business now. You go ahead and get some rest..."

"I can't sleep..." She squeaked out softly. Her voice was almost drowned out by the rain pounding on the roof.

"Well, how about I tell you about myself?" Darla offered. "Might take your mind off things. And its a dreadful dull story, might be just the thing to put you to sleep." When Alex nodded, she smiled "Good, good. Alright then, where to start? I was born 'round these parts. Grew up on an old poultry farm out near route 78. Damn near nothin' out that way save cattle and coyotes. Started workin' with my Pa on the trucks and tractors, picked it up right quick. He always said I was a natural. Turning wrenches like a pro by the time I was 8. Met my first love in middle school. Mikie Johnson. Crookedest teeth you'd ever see but he had a gentle way about him. He asked me to the harvest dance with a bundle of daisies he picked himself from his ma's garden. She nearly died of a heart attack when she saw what he did to her flowers..."

As she listened to the woman's soothing voice, Alex couldn't help but give a small smile. She listened intently at first, smiling at the misadventures of Darla and Mikie, and how she and her best friend were perfect opposites, and about the time a chicken broke into the feed stores and ate itself to death. For a while, she lost herself in the story. Overhead, the clouds began to thin, the rain letting up one drop at a time. She felt herself falling asleep, her head leaning against the glass window, her bag bundled up on her lap. With one last final yawn, she drifted off, still listening to Darla's life story.

Darla talked on and on, not even realizing that the girl had drifted off. Finally she glanced over and noticed her sleeping passenger. She smiled softly, considering the young woman. Reaching over, she pulled an old coat off the seat between them and covered the girl with it. Then she glanced out at the sky, where the sun peaked through the clouds and the thunder grew steadily more distant.

"Rain's finally stopped." She mumbled to herself. "Strange storm. Came outta no-where!" She checked her dash, then glanced at her sleeping passenger. "Well, I can go a bit further... I'll need to stop for gas though." She decided aloud. Another hour or two wouldn't hurt. And the poor girl looked like she needed her rest.

A half-hour later, she pulled over at a small gas station, the truck's breaks squealing loudly as she pulled up. Opening her door and sliding out, she was surprised at the bright sun and dry road around her.

"Perhaps we got ahead of the storm." She mused, rolling down her window. Her own car was still dripping. Turning back to close the door, she met the sky blue eyes of Victoria in her passenger seat. She smiled broadly. "Sorry to wake you, sweetie. Go ahead back to sleep. I'm just gettin some gas. Ten minutes then we're off again."

"Where are we?" 'Victoria' asked sleepily, rubbing at one eye.

"Probably about an hour or so from Kansas City." She checked her watch. "You've been asleep for about an hour and a half now."

"I'm sorry," She started straightening up. "The rain's stopped. I can make my own way from here."

"I'll not have it." Darla insisted. "Kansas City ain't too far from here anyways, and that's the place you'll wanna be. I'll get you there and then you can get yourself on a plane or train or what have you and get yourself home."

"But-"

"No buts." She interrupted "I'll grab us some snacks and pay for the gas. Stay right where you are and get some more shut eye. It'll do you a world of good."

Before Alex could argue with her, she turned on heel and marched over to the little station, boots crunching on the gravel. Alex watched her go, a warm, grateful feeling filling her chest. If she could just get to Kansas City... She looked around, considering the small town they had stopped in. A wide-load truck was parked near the exit to the station, its owner talking with a few bikers nearby. She noticed **Kansas City Meats** written on the side. Beyond that she could see a small water tower, the word _Grantville, Kansas_ painted in baby blue letters. A few fields surrounded them, tall cornstalks swaying in the breeze. A woman walked by pushing a stroller with a young girl skipping along beside her.

Alex turned back to look at the small gas station. She should probably stretch her legs. Pushing open the door with a creak, she slid out onto the ground. She could just make out Darla through the window, making her way up and down the isles. She would really have to think of a way to thank her. She hadn't expected to find such kindness, or to find someone willing to drive her so far out of their way. Suddenly, a TV inside the station caught her eye. She could just make out the anchors, when suddenly, her own face was being flashed on the screen. Underneath her picture, giant letters spelled out MISSING. Her heart sank to her stomach as she watched Darla walking towards the TV. She hadn't noticed it yet, but there was no way it would escape her attention for long. Suddenly, Alex jumped as the big truck rumbled to life only a few yards away. She looked over at it, then grabbed her bag, hesitating only briefly to pull out some cash and leave it on the seat. Then she sprinted over to the truck. The driver waved goodbye to the other men, giving her just enough time to pop open the side door and slip in.

"Oh my god..." Darla breathed, unable to tear her eyes from the TV.

"Once again, Alexandra Hart, age 24, is still missing, the only surviving member of the Hart-Benitez family out of Massachusetts, brutally murdered in their homes early this morning. Authorities urge anyone with any information to call-"

Spinning, Darla dropped her shopping basket and ran out of the gas station. But she could already see the passenger seat was empty. She spun in a circle, looking around the nearly empty parking lot. Already about a quarter mile away, the big truck sped towards Kansas City.

Darla walked numbly over to her car, even though she knew the girl wasn't there any more. "No wonder she was so..." She stopped short, shaking her head and sighing heavily. "...The poor thing..." She dug through her pockets, pulling out her cell phone and dialing 911.

"Police radio's got something." Sam told his brother, holding the headset to one ear. "A woman called in claiming a girl fitting Alex's description was with her in Grantsville, Kansas about an hour ago."

Dean stuffed the last of his sandwich into his mouth, wiping his hands and turning the ignition. "Grantsville it is." He shifted the car into drive and pulled out of the rest stop. "The woman know where she was headed?"

Sam paused while he listened in. "Said she gave the girl a ride, and that she was headed East. To Boston."

"Damn." Dean sighed "She _is_ trying to go home."

Sam didn't answer for a moment, still listening to the scanner. "The woman said she was planning to drive her to Kansas City before the girl took off."

"On foot?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "She says she disappeared, and the police already swept the town. So she must have found another ride."

"Girl's resourceful, I'll give her that." The older Winchester pointed out. "Considering she's probably never done anything like this before. But how much you want to bet that every angel and demon east of Wichita is now headed to Kansas City?"

"Yeah. If we heard this, then they definitely did too." Sam agreed sighing. "I'll call Cas, give him the update." Digging out his phone, he quickly scrolled down to Castiel's number. "With any luck, he can get there before Crowley does."

The Impala accelerated as they pulled onto the highway. "Remind me when we catch up to her to teach her how to stay under the radar a bit better." Dean joked "Between regular people sighting her and the dead bodies lining her trail, we might as well be following a yellow brick road."

"Not her fault that the demons and angels keep clashing in her wake." Sam pointed out. "And despite that, she's managed to stay ahead of us all."

"Yeah, well, not for long." He replied "Everyone knows she's headed for Kansas City now. They'll be there waiting." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "And even if she manages to give us all the slip there, she'll find a trap waiting to snag her back home."

"If she keeps up this pace, she'll be there in a day." Sam said. "Maybe we should just go there ourselves, rather than trying to figure out which of a million routes she could take to get there."

"But if she gets caught along the way? Better to try and intercept her."

Sam hit CALL on his phone and lifted it up to his ear. "Hey Cas. Got another lead. Yeah... She was in Grantsville, Kansas. Headed towards Kansas City...yeah. We're about an hour and a half from Kansas City on route 70-"

"I can get us there faster." The angel replied from the backseat, replacing his phone in his pocket.

Both brothers jumped. "Jesus, Cas, little warning next time?" Dean grumbled, shifting in his seat.

"I apologize. Time is of the essence." Castiel answered, then leaned forward, placing one hand on each front seat. "Let's go." With a flutter of wings, the Impala disappeared from the highway.

"Kansas City is a big place." Dean growled as they re-appeared on a side street, looking around. "How the hell are we supposed to track her down?"

"She'll probably try to take the most direct route home first." Sam reasoned. "She can't take a plane, because she doesn't have an ID."

"Which just leaves bus or train." Dean concluded, opening his door. "And I bet there aren't too many places in the city that go all the way to the East Coast."

Not far away, a large truck with **Kansas City Meats** written on the side pulled up to a smattering of warehouses on the outskirts of the city. As soon as the truck began to slow, the side door slid open. Quickly, Alex jumped down to the pavement and darted into a side ally before the driver even realized she was there. She rubbed at her arms, still cold from the chilled inside of the meat truck, and looked around her. Hopefully this was Kansas City, though she saw nothing that said as much aside from the tops of buildings in the distance. It wasn't like she had ever been before. She heard the cab door open, and decided not to linger around as voices called out a greeting to the driver.

Quietly, she turned and made her way down the small gap between the two buildings, heading towards a chain-link fence that surrounded the edge of the warehouses. Once there, she followed it until she found a door, then slipped through. Luckily it seemed security was pretty lax.

She followed her ears, hearing the sounds of traffic, and soon came upon a road with dozens of cars zipping back and forth. A billboard welcomed travelers to Kansas City, and not too far ahead she could see the city itself, with tall, looming buildings like a concrete jungle. Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, she began walking, careful to keep her head down and her hat covering her eyes. She had tucked all her hair into the hat, so that only a few errant strands dangled from beneath its rim, and had changed her clothes. If Darla had called the cops, a description of what she had been wearing would have been released to the public.

She hesitated suddenly, stopping. Darla had probably mentioned Kansas City to the police. Which might mean that the whole place was on the look out for her. She studied the city before her, debating whether to skirt it entirely. But it was her best chance to get a car, bus, or train that would take her closer to the East Coast. She would just have to avoid the most popular areas.

After another half-hour of walking, the first stores and businesses popped up, and the buildings slowly became denser. Posters and flags of the Kansas City Chiefs were everywhere, and the deeper into the city she walked, the more and more people packed the streets. Night was fast approaching, she realized. She had been running more or less all day. A wind picked up between the tall buildings as she continued, hesitating around each corner, wondering if she was really making the right choice. Soon she was far enough in that she saw a lot of taxi cabs and uber drivers. She was very tempted to flag one down and have them take her to the nearest train station. But instead she found a small convenient store and ducked in.

She walked quietly up and down the isles, debating what, if anything, to get. Each sound made her jump, and she checked over her shoulder a half dozen dimes before making it past the refrigerated section. Just as she was headed up to the counter, a newspaper caught her eye. The main page was covered with the headline "INTERNATIONAL MASS MURDERS BAFFLE WORLD", beneath which she saw a collage of familiar faces. Feeling her throat close up, she quickly looked away. Purchasing a map for $3 with tears in her eyes, she moved back out onto the street, making her way deeper downtown with her head ducked low and her insides aching.

When she finally got to the first station she found on the map, the sun had almost completely set, and the street lights had flickered to life. To her disappointment, there were no more buses running; the ticket seller was just on their way out and tipped their hat to her in passing. Pausing, she looked about, sighing. Her feet were sore and her shoulder hurt. Glancing at her map again, she moved off.

Hastily, she rushed to the train station. But as she feared, the last train had already left. Grabbing another schedule, she started to make her way towards the next nearest station. Just before she pulled open the main glass doors, she hesitated, looking around. The platforms seemed mostly deserted, and it looked like the majority of the staff had gone home. Her legs ached and her stomach growled. It was dark outside, and a large, antique looking clock told her it was past 8pm. The thought of getting a hotel room flickered in her mind, but she didn't have much money to spare, and the risk of being found... she shivered at the thought. Quietly, she walked back towards the benches near an abandoned ticket booth at the end of a platform facing away from the doors. She sat and opened her bag on the seat next to her.

The smiling faces of her family greeted her like a cold bucket of water thrown in her face, and she felt the familiar pain swelling about her chest as she blinked back more tears. Pulling out a sweatshirt roughly, she forcibly closed the bag again and carefully lay down on the worn wood, using the bag as a pillow and the sweatshirt as a blanket. The hollow eyes of her family lingered in her mind's eye, and she couldn't seem to shake their memory. She sniffled as she fought back the sadness, but her strength was sapped. Every sound made her jump, every tick of the clock pounded at her head. In the distance, car horns sounded and people shouted. She watched a young couple walk past. One of the pair glanced her way before continuing on. She thought she heard the click of boots somewhere nearby, and she tensed. But the sound soon faded.

Her growling stomach rolled about, complaining loudly. The last food she had eaten had been the sandwich Darla had made her... Darla...She hoped she was ok... Alex shifted slightly, pulling the sweatshirt up higher to her chin. She wondered what Sam and Dean were doing, and Castiel. Wondered if they were looking for her, or if they had said 'good riddance' and gotten on with their lives. Her lips tingled as she remembered kissing Castiel. Wasn't there a show about being kissed by an angel? She would have laughed had she the strength left. Her whole body ached and pulsed with exhaustion. Her chest hurt, her eyes hurt, her feet and legs hurt. She felt as if someone had rolled her down a mountainside wrapped in a blanket filled with broken glass. All she wanted to do was sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw her family. Or the text "BREAKING NEWS". Or "INTERNATIONAL MASS MURDERS BAFFLE WORLD". Or "MISSING". The words and images flashed before her eyes like a sorrowful montage of her greatest pain. She found her eyes burning just as much when she closed them as when she kept them open. Though at least when they were open, she didn't have to see her family's faces...

"Yes sir... I-I'm sure its her, sir..." The woman mumbled into the fresh cup of blood at the opposite end of the platform. Collapsed against a pillar, the man she had been walking with gargled on his own blood and clutched at his slashed throat. "Yes...she's alone...yes sire, the train station..."

"Good work then." Came the reply and the woman gasped softly, dropping the cup with a clang and spinning to face the King of Hell. "I'll take it from here. Gather the others and guard the door."

"Y-yes sire..." The woman stuttered, bowing awkwardly and backing away to leave.

The demon cleared his throat, causing the young woman to look up at him again fearfully. He gestured to the dying man beside them.

"Forgetting something?" He asked coldly.

The woman winced but quickly moved to gather up the corpse. Shaking his head, the King of Hell turned and looked at the bench at the opposite end of the platform as the woman dragged the body out. He considered the shape he could just make out stretched across the seat before slowly making his way toward it. The closer he drew, the more certain he became. It was her. He could almost feel the power pulsing off her. The familiar craving rolled knots in his stomach, and he had to take a steadying breath to level his head.

He waved his hand just as he drew up behind her, locking the doors to the station. It wouldn't keep out the supernatural for long, but hopefully any nosy mortals (or plaid clad hunters) would just assume no one was inside. And anyone who attempted to enter beyond that would find his followers waiting. He knew it wouldn't be long until angels began to swarm the place, like moths to a flame. A flame made of a pulsing, powerful soul. Even still, he paused for a moment, watching the girl shift and wriggle on the bench, trying to get comfortable. Outside, clouds drew across the stars, and a distant rumble of thunder was drowned out by the sounds of the city.

"Hello, love."

She jumped at the sound, his familiar voice sending her heart into a racing fury. Quickly she righted herself, sitting up on the bench and then spinning to her feet, facing the King of Hell.

"Miss me?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head to one side.

"Stay back!" She warned, lifting up one hand slightly as if she could keep him at bay with it.

He studied her for a moment, considering her raised hand and fearful demeanor. Slowly he tucked his hands into his pockets and moved to walk around the bench between them, dropping his gaze thoughtfully.

"What was the plan here, love?" He asked her coolly, pacing ever closer. She took a step back for each of his forward. "Run home? Find your family alive and well and that all this was a lie?" He paused a few strides from her, catching her gaze with his once more. "Or is this your swan dive?"

She watched him warily, but his words gave her pause. "I-I..." she stammered softly, glancing over his shoulder as if planning her escape.

If he was concerned she would bolt, he didn't show it. He let her open and close her mouth uselessly for a moment before taking a final step closer. To which she promptly stepped back again.

"You have to know it's a trap." He pressed "The angels slaughtered your family to lure you out of hiding... You're walking right into their hands."

She winced visibly at his words, pain evident on her face. But she set her jaw stubbornly. "I don't care." She breathed, her voice breaking.

He sighed heavily. "Look at yourself, love. You're barely able to stand. You're hungry. You're tired. You're hurting. You're quivering with exhaustion." He pulled one hand from his pocket and extended it to her. "Come with me. I'll get you a hot bath. A hot meal. A warm bed. Anything you need."

"I _need_ to go home." She argued, ignoring his hand.

Crowley's eyes flashed dangerously and his expression tightened. "Don't make me ask twice." He threatened quietly.

Fear rippled through her at the dark shadow that rolled over his face. She took another step back, eyes never leaving his.

" **No**. I'm going _home_."

He smiled wickedly, and for some reason it sent more shivers down her spine than the dark look it replaced. "Who said you won't?" He purred "Just... not yet. You're not up to it."

His hand remained extended, breeching the air between them like a silhouette in the last rays of the sun. Darkness cloaked as mercy. She glanced down at it briefly, and he wiggled his fingers. When she looked back up to his face, he raised his eyebrows again, attempting to entice her closer.

"Back to the bunker." She both told and asked, rubbing the flat of her palm against her bare arm.

Crowley scoffed. "No. Someplace better. Safer. More befitting someone of your...qualities."

His words made her look up at him in surprise. "What about Sam and Dean? Castiel?"

The demon looked almost annoyed, dropping his hand exasperatedly and rolling his eyes. "Those imbeciles are going to get you killed, and likely themselves in the process." He told her, lips pursed. Then he changed tactics. "If you really care about them, that's all the more reason to come with me." She looked at him curiously. He smiled. "They're in danger if you stay with them. I'm sure you've considered the same thing. That's why you ran." Alex looked away, closing her eyes, clenching her jaw. "They're safe, as long as you keep your distance."

"That's what I thought about..." She dropped off; couldn't even finish her sentence.

"Your family." Crowley finished for her, and her face twitched in agony again at the word. "But _they_ aren't your family. They have no apparent connection to you, unless they are _with_ you."

"And what about you?" She opened her eyes, fixing her dazzling, sky blue irises upon his face. "You don't care about your own safety?"

"Do you?" A small, self-mocking smirk settled on his lips. "Better a demon dying than a human or an angel."

She shook her head. "I don't want _anyone_ to die because of me."

That gave him pause, but he shrugged it off quickly. "People die every day, love." He told her coldly. "Running away won't change that."

"But if _I_ die-"

" **Nothing** will change." He interrupted firmly "The angels have been killing long before you, and they will be killing long after you. They don't care. They never have. You are just their most recent excuse."

She didn't answer, instead taking a half-step backwards, hesitating. He watched her quietly, letting her mull over his words. Suddenly, there was a soft clatter from the door. Crowley didn't even glance over. He could already tell by the fervent shaking who was outside. Alexandra looked over, eyes wide. She could just make out the three silhouettes, crowded about the door as they shook at it. Their muffled voices grew louder as they peered through the glass. The muted sounds of fighting drifted through the cracks. Dean shook the doors again, and Sam slammed the butt of his gun against the glass.

She looked back over at the King of Hell, who extended his hand again. She hesitated, drawing her hands to her chest and glancing over at the door again.

"Stand back." Came Castiel's muffled voice.

The doors began to rattle even more forcefully, and a high pitched whine began to fill the air. Alex turned back to the demon.

"You're not supposed to make deals with demons." She breathed.

He grinned. "Then consider this a truce with a King."

Just as the door blew open from the force of Castiel's angelic power, Alex reached out and placed her hand in Crowley's. There was a split second, before she disappeared, that her eyes met the angel's. Remorse and sorrow filled them, but also determination. Just like that, the pair were gone, leaving nothing but empty air where they stood. A solitary picture frame fell from the bench, clattering to the floor and echoing around the now abandoned station.


	13. Savior or Captor?

A four poster bed sat along one wall on a slightly raised section of floor, and there was a large fireplace and a small table set with a fine tea set. A love-seat faced the fireplace, and one of the walls was lined with books, another with tapestries depicting intricate scenery. There were two doors, one half ajar beyond which she could see tile and porcelain. The other looked heavier and was bolted shut from the outside. The room was lit with wall sconces and a massive iron chandelier which dangled from the center of the ceiling on thick black chains.

"You didn't tell me what you thought of it last time." Crowley noted as he stepped up to stand at her shoulder while she studied the room, his hands clasped behind his back.

She didn't answer, her tired eyes skimming over the decadent furniture with a hollow expression. Everything from the dark cream and gold silk sheets on the bed to the porcelain and gold tea set screamed wealth and luxury. Like a room for royalty. The woods that the furniture was made with were a deep, rich brown, and all the fabrics were a dark creamy color. Save for the extras; the curtains about the bed, the accent pillows on the couch, the cloth upon the tea table, which were all a royal red. All of it lightly dusted with hints of gold, either on the edge of the crimson like the pillows, or engulfing it fully like the heavy comforter upon the bed. The tapestries on the wall opposite the fireplace depicted beautifully horrifying scenes of angels fighting demons or humans, their intricate detail leading the eye across each artfully stitched inch of the masterpiece. The books on the dark wood shelf looked old and hand bound, and she could almost smell their ancient pages just by looking at them.

Crowley waited, watching her as he tried to gauge her expression. But her hollow eyes merely looked defeated and exhausted. After a few impatient minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

"What do you want for supper, love?" he asked, looking about. "Anything you'd like. Sweets, meats, curried treats. Just say the word, and its yours."

She didn't answer right away, taking a step forward as she looked around the dark stone walls. Her mind was too clouded to think straight.

"I'd say the word if I could find one." She murmured, stifling a yawn.

"To bed, then." He proclaimed, and snapped his fingers. The lights instantly dimmed, and a fire sprung to life in the fireplace, crackling soothingly. "If you'd rather a hot bath first I can have it drawn for you."

She shook her head numbly. "I can barely move."

"In that case, allow me." He purred, and gently wrapped his arm about her waist.

He guided her towards the bed before she could protest, and with another snap of his fingers the covers pulled back. Her knees grew weak at the sight of the soft looking mattress and pillows, but she hesitated at its edge. She looked over at the demon beside her, suddenly wary.

"And what will you do while I'm here?" She asked almost bitterly.

He smiled charmingly. "I don't suppose you'd like some company?" At her sour look he smirked "No? Well then, I suppose I shall have to entertain myself elsewhere. Seeing as I don't sleep. You know, I do have Hell to run." He watched her slowly turn and sit upon the bed. "But don't fret. I'll return as soon as you wake."

"Great." She mumbled softly, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

She kicked off her shoes and socks and lay in the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She felt herself sink into their plushness and breathed out a heavy sigh. Crowley stood by her head, a smug look on his face.

"Anything else, love?" He asked "A warm glass of milk perhaps?" She shook her head. "Wonderful. Sleep well then, pet."

And then he turned, making his way across the room. A fleeting moment of panic flickered in her chest as he left her side. She watched him silently until he was a few strides away, biting her lip.

"...Crowley?" She called after him softly.

He turned, raising his eyebrows questioningly. "Yes, pet?"

She hesitated, slowly propping herself up on one elbow. Again she bit her lip, dropping her gaze to the stone floor. He waited where he was, impatience growing on his face the longer he waited.

"...Can you..." She started finally, but then dropped off, obviously unsure of herself. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.

"Can I what, love?"

She opened and closed her mouth silently once before finding her voice again. "...Can you...stay... just for a bit?"

The King of Hell had to work hard to keep the surprise out of his face. He didn't succeed completely. "Stay?" He walked back towards her slowly. "So you do want my company?" He teased with a smirk.

She shook her head quickly "N-no...I mean... not like that just..." She sighed and lay back into the pillows. "...Never mind..."

"I'll stay, love. If its what you want." He told her, snapping his fingers. An armchair slid over, facing her, its side brushing the bed. "Until you fall asleep, if you'd like."

She didn't respond right away, sliding one hand under the pillow she rested her head on and avoiding the demon's gaze. She stared blankly ahead as he settled into the chair, crossing one leg on top of the other and folding his hands on his lap.

"Its just...I..." She dropped off, her voice so soft he could barely make out the words she spoke. "I-I …. can't stop …..seeing _them_..."

He didn't answer her, instead studying her forlorn, sorrowful expression. Her sky blue eyes seemed so large as she gazed into the empty air, unblinking. He imagined it would be difficult to sleep if one were haunted by such memories. Perhaps that's why demons didn't sleep, he mused.

"Well," He said with a small smile that quickly faded "If my presence may give you a moment of peace, then I shall stay here as long as you need me to."

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and he tried to smile as warmly as he could. He dropped his propped foot back to the floor, leaning over and gently stroking her hair back behind her ear. She didn't pull away, so he stroked her head again, then rested his hand upon her's which lay palm up beside her face. Gently, he squeezed it, tracing his thumb up and down its length. She looked away from him, but her eyes seemed a little less wide. Her blinks slowed and her breath deepened as he stroked her hand. Finally, her exhaustion won and her eyes slowly closed.

Crowley waited a few minutes after her heart-rate and breathing steadied before heaving a soft sigh. He began to retract his hand, but suddenly her's wrapped around it and gripped it tight. For the second time in so short a spans, he felt surprised. His gaze drifted to her sleeping face, her eyelids flickering as her eyes moved slowly beneath them while she slept.

"Oh, you're going to be trouble." He murmured so softly it was barely audible. Not that she could hear him.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed as the pair disappeared from inside the station.

"We... we were too late!" Sam breathed, shocked. He turned, facing the growing battlefield behind them.

Almost on cue, the demons began to retreat, some blinking out, some abandoning their meat-suits and disappearing down between the cracks of the cobblestone sidewalk. The surviving angels turned to face the Winchesters and Castiel. Their expressions were filled with rage and bloodlust, and as they advanced between the bodies of their fallen comrades and unlucky demons, Castiel knew he had to work fast.

"There's nothing more for us here." He told the brothers, and grabbed their shoulders roughly.

With a flutter of wings, they fled from the scene, reappearing near the impala on the dark streets. The clouds overhead parted as if swept away, revealing a dazzling moon beyond the streetlights.

"Damn it!" Dean snarled again, stomping over to the car. "Why would she go with him?"

"He must have tricked her." Castiel concluded, following a few paces behind. "Told her that he would bring her back to the bunker."

"If she had wanted to stay at the bunker, she would have." Sam pointed out. He sighed, running one hand through his hair. "Maybe Crowley told her he'd take her to Massachusetts."

"No." Dean growled. "Because she's not stupid enough to fall for that lie." He yanked open the driver's side door. "And Crowley wouldn't let her within a hundred miles of that place."

"Then why go with him?" Castiel's voice sounded strained, and perhaps even a little hurt.

Sam shook his head, having no answers to give the angel. Exasperated the trio climbed into the car. They sat in silence for a moment, obviously trying to gather their next move.

"Where to next?" Dean asked them, reaching to start the engine.

Sam looked out the window, rubbing his chin. "Back to the bunker?" He offered "We could try to figure out where Crowley is holed up this time."

"We should go to Massachusetts." Castiel told them, leaning forward between the front seats.

"What? Why?" Sam asked, confused.

"No, Cas is right." Dean agreed. "I don't think she'll give up going back so easily. She'll find a way to give Crowley the slip and get back home."

Sam considered that quietly for a moment, then nodded his agreement. "Alright. But how do we get to her parent's place without the angels knowing we're there? And how do we fight them all off even if we get to her first?"

"Perhaps if you can slowly ward the place with Enochian sigils, you can slowly force any angels out." Castiel conspired.

"That means you too, Cas." Sam pointed out.

The angel nodded. "It'll give you two enough time to convince her to come with us, then once you cross over the sigils I'll fly us to safety."

"And in the meantime, you can look for Crowley." Dean instructed. "In case she never shows." The angel nodded.

Sam sighed, shifting in his seat. "Sounds like a plan."

Dean started the engine and the Impala rolled out of the small alleyway. Castiel hesitated, then leaned forward again.

"Have you noticed?" He asked the brothers.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at the angel. "Noticed what?"

"How clear it feels." He explained, looking between them. "How much easier it is to _think_ when she's not around."

Neither said anything for a moment, but finally Dean nodded. "Yeah. I actually did notice..."

"It's like... whenever we get close to her, all I can think about is seeing her..." Sam put in "Being near her, protecting her, making sure she's safe. Beyond all reason, just-"

"Just charge straight in, head first." Dean finished for him, nodding his agreement.

"It played to our advantage." Castiel pointed out "Her proximity made the angels and demons outside the station unable to properly organize."

"So how are we supposed to help her if we can't think straight around her?" Dean asked exasperatedly.

"I'm not sure... I believe much of our chaotic desire is driven from her own emotional disintegration." The angel mused "Her pain and despair has seeped into her resonance, causing all within its range to have similar reasoning abilities as someone recently suffering from major loss."

"Makes about as much sense as any of this does." Dean replied, shaking his head as he turned onto the highway. "So how do we get it to stop?"

"She's got to deal with her family's death." Sam offered, a tinge of sadness edging his voice.

"Yeah, because the last time she had to deal with it, she nearly ripped the bunker apart." Dean growled "She tries to process it again, and she might just put a new Grand Canyon on the East Coast."

"Well, its not like we can block out her resonance." Sam argued. "So either she deals with her family's death, she becomes pregnant with the next God so her resonance stops, or..." He dropped off.

"Or she dies." Dean finished, gritting his teeth.

They all rode in silence for a time, the lights flashing past the window rhythmically. As they left Kansas City in the rearview mirror, Castiel leaned forward again.

"I'll drop you two off in Massachusetts before I begin my search for Crowley." He told them, touching each of the front seats with one hand. "Call for me if you need me. And be very careful. Every angel on earth and in heaven will be watching for you."

"Great." Dean grumbled sarcastically.

Alone again. Slowly, she sat up in the bed, glancing up at the thin, foggy beams of sunlight filtering in through narrow slits near the tops of the walls. Pulling the covers off, she swung her legs over the edge and placed her bare feet on the cold floor. She looked around the room, standing slowly and rubbing her arms as she walked over to the fireplace. No way to know exactly what time it was or how long she had slept. Her dreams had been a haunting of her life, but right at her happiest moments, she watched her family die before her eyes. Her brother Kevin, falling out of a tree they were climbing as kids and shattering into a million pieces. Running into her mother's arms only to find them cold and stiff and covered in blood. Sitting next to her father in the car as he taught her how to drive, feeling something dripping on her arm only to realize it was his blood, and the crash was her fault. Hearing her niece, Emily, crying, but she had to crawl over her brother Chris and his wife Sarah's bodies to get to the nursery, only to find the crib stained scarlet and empty. The heavy dark bags under her eyes were a testament to her restless night.

She sank onto the couch slowly, her eyes distantly staring at the dying, crackling fire, arms still wrapped about herself.

"Morning, love." Came a familiar voice.

Alex didn't bother to turn her head as Crowley walked around the back of the couch to stand before her. In his hands he held a gilded tray, with eggs, bacon, and biscuits set on porcelain plates as well as a tea pot with steam coming out its spout.

"I brought breakfast."

Again she didn't answer, lost in her memories as she stared at the fireplace. The King of Hell stood silently for a moment as he studied her, then walked over to the small circular table with two chairs. He placed the tray atop it then walked back over to where she sat. He stood over her, clasping his hands before him, considering her.

"Where are we?" She asked him softly, still staring at the dancing flames.

He paused for a moment, debating whether or not to answer her. "Upstate New York. Near the Adirondack mountains." He admitted finally. "In an old, abandoned mansion. Well, no longer abandoned. My home away from hell, if you will." He paused again, studying her face. "I'm sure you are thinking about how far away _your_ old home is."

She nodded, seeing no reason to lie. It was all she could think about; going home. It all still didn't feel real. She felt as though an invisible chain was tied to her chest, endlessly tugging and pulling and beckoning her back. Maybe she had had some psychotic break, and in order to get back to reality, she had to get home. To her old house. Her hometown. To her family... A weird, mental quest of sorts to find her sanity. Like in Shutter Island, or Inception. Or some other movie that didn't star Leonardo DiCaprio. She had to see the truth in order to go back to her real life. Had to see the top fall over to believe this was real.

"You aren't going." Crowley told her firmly, interrupting her thoughts.

She looked at him finally, her eyes tired and haunted. "Am I a prisoner?"

He studied her face. "I'd like you to think of _this_ place as your home." He said, as if he didn't hear her question. He reached down and took her arm, gently pulling her to her feet. He steered her over to the table where he had set the tray.

"And if I don't?" She posed, allowing him to guide her and sitting down in the simple, dark wood chair.

He sat in the opposite matching chair. "You will. Eventually." He stated, as if there wasn't a doubt in his mind. He flipped over the two tea cups on their saucers and filled each near to the brim. He took one and placed it before him, slowly stirring in some honey and a splash of milk.

"Am I a prisoner?" She asked again, watching him.

For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't answer again either. He took a slow sip of the tea before replacing the cup on the saucer. "You chose to come with me of your own free will, did you not? Therefore-"

"Yes or no, Crowley." She interrupted softly. "The whole truth, you said. No beating around the bush."

He gave a small smirk, taking another sip of tea. "Very well. Then yes, to an extent. Though not in the... _traditional_ sense of a 'prisoner'. You are free to do whatever you wish or desire... as long as its within these walls."

"That seems like the very traditional sense." She grumbled bitterly, taking a sip of her own tea.

He leaned forward, placing one hand on the table. "Of course, I'd be willing to make a deal."

She eyed him over the top of her cup, part of her suspicious, part of her curious. "Another deal?"

Crowley smiled. "I like deals."

She looked back down at her plate, pushing about the eggs with her fork. "Sam said you were a Crossroads demon..." she recalled. _And that you seal deals with a kiss,_ she added silently. Her heart raced at the thought.

He nodded. "Before I became King of Hell, I was called King of the Crossroads. Generally, Crossroads demons offer to make a dream, wish, or prayer of a human into reality, in exchange for their soul." He sat back in his chair, waving one hand about as he spoke. "Curing a loved one, wealth, position, hot wife, dog back from the dead, hated rival brutally murdered. Whatever their little hearts desire."

"For their soul."

He shrugged. "I need their soul to power the magic. Or did." He grinned "Now I have the power of Hell at my disposal."

Alex traced her thumb along the edge of the teacup, holding it in both hands and staring into its depths. "So you want to make a deal for my soul."

"Heavens no." He scoffed, waving away the notion. But then he gave a small, confident smile. "What I want from you is something much more powerful."

"To be father of the next God." She concluded.

Crowley nodded. "And I'd be willing to trade whatever you want in exchange for that."

She didn't look up, but sadness pricked the corners of her eyes. "Can you bring back my family?"

The King of Hell rubbed his chin. "...No...I am afraid that's beyond me... Mostly because the angels locked their souls away deep in heaven, so I have nothing to return to their bodies... They must have anticipated the possibility of such a transaction-"

"Then you have nothing to offer me." Alexandra interrupted, dropping her cup loudly onto the tray and standing.

Crowley considered her, mildly amused. "What about your freedom?"

"Take it." She snapped angrily, turning away from the table. "I'd only be trading one prison cell for another."

"Alright then, love," He watched her storm back over to the couch and sit down. "How about...access to the power of your soul?"

She looked over at him. "What?"

He stood slowly, walking over with drawn out strides. "I can unlock your soul, the most powerful soul that ever was and ever will be, giving you full access to it now rather than you having to wait for your reach to blossom. Power beyond your wildest imagination." He paused, looming over her once more. "And then you could go anywhere you wished, whenever you wished. You'd be practically invincible." When she looked up at him, he met her gaze with a false tenderness. "You could go home."

Her heart panged at the notion, and she had to drop her gaze from his again. The temptation...to be able to have all that power. To be able to do whatever she wished and no one could stop her...She shook her head, placing her palm against her forehead.

She felt the couch depress as he sat next to her. "Come now, love." He purred, gently taking her hand. "You need to pick a father eventually. Might as well get something out of it. And besides, you won't find a better candidate."

"I'll wait, thanks." She mumbled, not even meeting his gaze.

She felt his grip on her hand tighten. "...Let me explain something to you, sweetheart." He half-growled, half-purred. She looked over at him, seeing the dark look spread across his features. "It's taking everything in my considerable power not drag you over to that bed right now and _take_ what I want." She tried to yank her hand away fearfully, but he just pulled her closer. "Because I _always_ get what I want, love. And right now what I want, more than I've ever wanted anything ever before, is _**you**_. I want to _own_ you and your future. I want to taste your flesh in my mouth, feel your body beneath mine, and explore every inch of your being. Maybe it's because of your resonance. Maybe it's because you fight me so persistently. Or maybe its because of my own ambition. All I know is that every molecule of my being is screaming at me to over-power you while I still can and _force_ you to be mine."

She struggled against his grip, trying to tear her wrist from his grasp as he gripped her tighter and tighter as his voice grew louder and louder. He pulled her closer to him with each word, grabbing the back of her neck with his other hand and forcing her to look at him. His eyes turned crimson, and she had to stifle a fearful gasp. But at the same time, her heart raced. She felt a powerful desire rippling through her, yet it felt foreign and unfamiliar, as if forced into her body from some outside source. Still, it nearly overwhelmed her, and she found her eyes fluttering down to his lips briefly. Felt her thoughts wandering to what exactly the King of Hell would taste like, would feel like. She fought hard against the primal drive that rushed through her veins, struggling to keep herself above the waves. The room began to shake slightly as he trapped her in his grasp, the cups and plates on the tray clinking and rattling, dust falling from between the stones in the ceiling.

"It would be so easy." He crooned softly, his faces inches from her's, his red eyes as cold as rubies. "So easy to take everything I want from you. And you wouldn't be able to stop me..." The teapot fell from the quaking table, rolling to the floor and shattering.

As if the sound brought him back to his senses, he threw her away from himself and stood, straightening his suit. The room slowly stilled as Alex's breathing steadied, but her heart still pounded in her chest. Crowley worked visibly to force down his desires and impulsiveness, clearing his throat and swiping a hand through his hair. He blinked and the red eyes disappeared with a soft _shwick_ , and he fixed his tie.

"...But instead, I wait." He continued, as if nothing had happened. "Instead I ask nicely and make you once-in-a-lifetime offers." He looked over at her "And still you deny me."

She didn't answer, just stared at him with fearful, wary eyes. He considered her for a long moment, hands absent-mindedly fixing the cuffs of his suit. She slowly righted herself upon the couch, inching as far away from him as the furniture would allow.

"...I can wait." He said finally, as if convincing himself as well as her. "Eventually, there will be something you need from me. Something you'll be willing to make a deal for."

"Don't hold your breath." She growled softly.

He chuckled. "Luckily, I don't breathe." He informed her, turning and making his way over to the door. He glanced over at the tea spilt across the floor, a complicated look crossing his face before he snapped his fingers. The latch on the other side of the door slid away with a loud CLUNK, and he pulled the door open. "I'll send someone to clean that mess. Be back soon, love." he told her, pulling to door closed behind him.

"This the place?" Dean asked, peering through the binoculars.

"The map at the bottom of the hill places 290 right there." Sam replied, peering through his own pair. "Almost dead center. Can't see much of it beyond these trees."

The brothers sat in the plain sedan they had stolen outside of Worcester, Massachusetts, stashing their conspicuous Impala in an underground garage there. After that, it had only taken one fake FBI visit to the local authorities to find out the street address. Everyone knew exactly what they were talking about; the murders were big news all across the country. However, even with the address and a stolen GPS, it had taken the boys half the day to find the small town and the right road therein. The house was on a hill to the side of a main road, at the base of which a smattering of worn mailboxes waited beside a overly simplified map of the neighborhood drawn with lines and numbers. The dirt road that led up the hill seemed mostly quiet, with only one car coming down since the brothers had arrived the hour before. Around the mailboxes and sign were candles, flowers, posters, and pictures mourning the deaths. A temporary police sign had been posted, stating only residents and authorized persons were allowed up the drive upon risk of arrest and persecution.

"Any sign of angels?" Sam asked, squinting through the lenses as if he'd be able to see through the trees better that way.

"I can barely make out the house." Dean grumbled. "We gotta get closer."

"We try to get any closer and they'll tag us for sure." His brother commented. "I wouldn't even suggest going into town. The angels probably have eyes all over."

"So who's to say they haven't spotted us already?" Dean argued. "Let's go to that restaurant we saw. Get some lunch and see if we can scope out a way to get closer. We're gonna at least have to wait until closer to nightfall anyways, and I'm not doing it in this car." Sam gave Dean an exasperated look. "It smells like old lady, ok!" Snapped his brother angrily.

"Alright, fine." Sam relented "But we'll have to be careful." He pulled out a pair of hats from the back seat.

Dean looked at the baseball cap irritatedly. "I hate hats." He grumbled, shoving it onto his head.

Sam chuckled softly to himself as he pulled his hair back and tucked it into his own hat. He also put on a pair of glasses. Dean looked over at him.

"Seriously?"

"..What?"

"Want to put on fake mustaches next?"

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, then sighed angrily. "Just shut up and go."

Dean started the car and put it into drive. "You are such a nerd."

Two minutes down the road and they had reached the little restaurant. Though it was more like an ice cream stand that served food. Parking the sedan, the brothers walked past the outside windows where high schoolers served out ice cream, and into the small sitting area inside. Pulling his hat low, Dean walked over to the counter and glanced over a laminated menu on the counter.

"What can I get for you today?" A peppy young girl asked, pulling over a notepad and pencil.

"I'll get a bacon burger, extra bacon." Dean told her "With a side of fries. And uh, you got salad here?"

"We have tuna salad?" The girl offered.

"Nah, screw it, just get me a cheeseburger with all the fixings for him." Dean grumbled, pulling some cash out of his pocket. "And uh, two sodas."

"No problem, here's your change, and we'll bring it over to you guys when its ready." She told him, already turning to bring his order over to the grill a few feet away.

"Thanks."

Dean turned and walked over to a corner table where Sam sat with his laptop out. His brother barely glanced up when he pulled out one of the wooden benches and sat down. Carefully, Dean surveyed the little room, but other than the workers behind the counter scooping ice cream and grilling, the place was empty. Out front a small line had formed for ice cream, and out the back window he saw a family sitting at a picnic table by their car.

"Ok, so I got a google earth image of the place." Sam told him, sliding his computer over to show him. "Looks like its pretty open all around going up the hill, except for these trees here on this side. We might be able to use them to get closer to the house itself, but then we'd be exposed for a good dozen yards before the back door."

"Alright well, what if one of us creates a diversion, leads most of the angels away, then banishes them with the blood sigil." Dean suggested. "That'll give us time to get in and start clearing out the property and warding it."

"Here you go!" Came a male voice, and a waiter set the food on the table before them.

"Thanks." Dean replied, glancing over at the tray. His eyes widened at the two sundaes and chocolate shakes there amid the burgers and fries. "Hey, we didn't order-"

"No problem, kiddos. Its on the house."

Both brothers stared wide-eyed and slack jawed at the waiter. Dean reached for his gun and Sam started to stand defensively. Standing before them in an apron and a smug grin, was a very familiar archangel.

"Gabriel!" the brothers said in unison.

"In the flesh." The angel looked about warily, patting the air before him. "Though keep it down, will ya? You'll blow my cover."

"H-how...wh-wha-... how a-are you even-" Sam stammered.

"Such a man of words. That's what I always liked about you." Gabriel said with a grin, sitting opposite the brothers and pulling a sundae over to himself. He looked about, as if expecting to see someone else.

"How are you even here?" Dean growled quietly. "We thought you were dead!"

"Mmm" mumbled Gabe through a mouthful of ice cream, then swallowed. "Was dead. Daddy dearest brought me back just before he departed." He scooped up another massive spoonful of ice cream "Not exactly full power, but hey, I'll take what I can get."

"So, wait, _you're_ the archangel trying to take over heaven?" Sam asked with surprise, sitting back into his seat.

Gabriel gave him a surprised look. "Oh god, no. Nope. Nu-uh. No thanks."

The Winchesters waited expectantly while he ate another spoonful of sundae. He looked up from his treat to see them staring at him, and looked back and forth between them curiously.

"...Then who is?" Dean demanded irritatedly.

"Ah, right." The archangel smacked his lips. "Raphael, last I heard."

"...Ra... Raphael is back too?" The older Winchester exclaimed.

"Yup. Dad brought all us archangels back. Well, me and Raph anyways. Lucifer he just gave a solid vessel, and Michael he took out of the cage."

"You mean to tell me that all four of you bozos are running around free now?" Snapped Dean.

"Where are Michael and Lucifer?" Sam asked, almost fearfully.

Gabriel shrugged. "I don't know. Somewhere. Michael's still on the fritz from being in the cage, and who knows what Lucy's up to. Dad left him powered down though, so that he can't cause trouble."

"Oh well, that was nice of him." Dean snarled sarcastically.

"But let's move on to you two." The angel said, tucking his spoon into his sundae and interlacing his fingers on the table in front of him. "Rumor has it that Dad left behind a super special little someone, and that you two" he pointed at them with his index fingers "have got back stage passes. Am I right?"

The brothers exchanged a look. "Why should we tell you?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"What? Why not?" Gabriel appeared insulted. "Didn't we all end on good terms? I sacrificed my life for you two morons!"

"Yeah, but that was then, and this is now." Dean argued. "How do we know you aren't working with Raphael? Or just up to your old crap? Or even are _you_ for that matter?"

"Please. I've been behaving myself since I got back. Death has a way of humbling an angel." He proclaimed dramatically, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye. He looked at the brothers with his crooked grin. "I just want to meet this human everyone in heaven is buzzing about. Haven't I earned that?"

"That depends." Sam replied, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back with a serious expression.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "On?"

"Whether or not you orchestrated the mass murder of her entire family." Dean snarled menacingly.

The archangel sighed, shaking his head, looking annoyed. "No...that was all Raphael..." He said dejectedly "That jerkwad has always been a stick in the freaking mud. All he ever does is 'God commands this' and 'God commands that'. If Dad didn't tell him something directly he wouldn't do it. So, bag of fun that he is, Raph sees this whole thing as some sort of cosmic level insult to Dad and us." He tossed his hands up, leaning back in his seat. "Pride cometh before the fall." he grumbled.

"Well, isn't that just fan-freaking-tastic." Dean snapped, grabbing his burger off the tray.

"So if that was all Raphael," Sam started "Then what are you doing here?"

"I heard about Raphael's...you know..."

"Killing spree?" Dean snarled angrily.

Gabriel nodded, not seeming particularly bothered by Dean's words or mannerisms. "Yeah. So I figured he wasn't wrong, and that the girl would show up here eventually-"

"And you want to meet her." Sam finished, glancing at his brother.

"Bingo bango." The archangel confirmed. He looked about again. "So where is she? I was sure you two would have her stashed somewhere..." He looked between the brothers, then his brow furrowed. "... You do know where she is...don't you?"

"On her way here." Dean mumbled through a mouthful of burger.

"What? Why are you bringing her here?"

"We didn't intend to," Sam explained "But uh... she kind of..." He gestured with his hands uselessly while he tried to find the right words.

Gabriel looked back and forth between the brothers for a second. "You lost her, didn't you?"

"Not lost, so much as..."

"Didn't lock the front door." Dean interjected.

"So... where is she?"

The brothers exchanged another look. "...On her way here." Sam reassured him.

"You don't KNOW?" The archangel exclaimed. He threw his hands up again. "Seriously, why is it always you two? There's gotta be a better choice out there. ANYONE would be a better choice at this point."

"Alright, here's the deal, feather-head," Dean leaned forward angrily, tapping the table with his index finger. Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him. "Alex is on her way here as we speak, and she's not going to leave until she gets to see her childhood home. Right now, its probably swarming with angels. What _we_ need to do, is clear the way, so that she can properly grieve for her family or whatever and get on with her life."

"That's why she gave us the slip in the first place." Sam explained "She knew we wouldn't let her come here, so she ran. We _know_ she's coming here, and we _know_ there's no stopping her or changing her mind-"

"So we just gotta do the best we can to make this place safe for her." Dean finished.

"And?" The archangel asked, brow raised.

"And if you want to meet her, you gotta help us." Sam told him.

The angel sighed. "Why is it that I always seem to get stuck helping you two numbnuts? Can't another archangel get saddled with you for a while?"

"Well, Michael and us didn't exactly see eye-to-eye, and Lucifer only helped us defeat the Darkness because his ass was at stake too." Dean commented, cocking his head to the side. "And Raphael is part of the reason we're in this whole mess."

Gabriel rubbed his chin with one hand. Then he sighed. "Alright. Fine. I'll help. But only because Dad obviously made this girl for a reason, and I don't think it was to get gutted by Raph."

"She's supposed to be-" Sam started.

"Mother of God, I know." He interrupted, waving his hand at the taller Winchester dismissively. "Why do you think I want to meet her so much?" He grinned again, sucking half the chocolate shake up in one massive swallow.

"Do you know anything else about her?" Sam asked eagerly. "Anything useful or that might help her?"

The angel shook his head. "Sorry, kiddos. I know about as much as you two, probably." He swirled his spoon in the sundae. "Didn't Dad leave an instruction manual? He loves leaving instructions and cryptic clues."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, debating whether or not to talk about the God tablet. "He left... something... but its near impossible to read." Sam replied guardedly.

If the archangel cared that the Winchesters were hiding something, he didn't show it. "Sounds like him alright." He scooped another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "I'm just as curious as you two about it all." He looked around. "Where's my little brother?"

"Who, Cas?" Dean asked. "He's out searching for Crowley."

Gabriel frowned. "Why? What's a demon have to do with any of this?" Sam and Dean exchanged another guilty look. Studying their faces the angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's with him, isn't she?"

"She'll shake him loose and come here." Dean replied confidently.

The angel rolled his eyes. "Just because she gave you two the slip, doesn't mean she'll wriggle out of iron chains and dungeons anytime soon."

"No, no chains. No dungeons." Sam interjected "Crowley wants her to like him. He'll try to play the friendly demon; trick her into trusting him."

"Plus no one can think straight around her, so he won't be on his A game." Dean added.

Gabriel looked over at the older Winchester. "What do you mean, no one can think straight around her?"

"Her resonance." Sam explained. "It messes with everyone in a close enough proximity."

The archangel appeared intrigued. "Really? Is that so?"

Dean waved his hand. "You want to know more, you help us clean this place of your feathered friends."

Smiling, the angel leaned back in his chair. "No problemo, kiddos. Call Cas over and let's get this party started."

"Great. So can you get us close?" Dean asked, eyeing the archangel suspiciously.

"I can do better than that." Gabriel smirked, then raised his hand and snapped his fingers.


	14. Let Me Go Home

Alex tugged at the door one last time, but it was firmly latched from the other side. If only she could use her powers to open it, like when Castiel had opened the bedroom door back at the bunker. She placed her hand flat on the cool metal, willing it to open. And after a few moments of quietly willing...nothing happened.

"Come on..." She whispered. "Open!"

The door remained in place, not even a twitch to show her attempt was working. Sighing, she dropped her hand and looked over her shoulder. Maybe there was another way out. She eyed the narrow windows near the tops of the walls. She might be able to squeeze through one... if she could reach them. Grabbing one of the chairs, she dragged it over to the wall and stood on it. But even reaching up on her tip toes, her fingertips barely grazed the edge of the window. And who knew what floor she was on. She could be four or more stories up!

Plan C then. She climbed down off the chair and looked around again. What _was_ Plan C? The girl went into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the tiled walls as if one might hold a secret entryway. But they all seemed just like plain old walls. Not even thin walls; there was no give when she knocked on them.

Maybe the bed? She walked over and stood on it, then on the headboard, reaching up towards the window. Now she could grab the edge, and she tried to pull herself up, placing her feet on the wall. She made it up off the headboard by a few inches, but her foot slipped and she slammed against the stone wall painfully. Grunting, she released the window ledge and eased back down onto the bed. She wondered if she could somehow climb higher using the chair and the bed frame... or maybe she could dissemble something and make a kind of ladder... Or could she get up on the mantle? She walked over to the fireplace, the fire having long since died out.

 _The fireplace!_ She thought excitedly. Of course! It was a huge fireplace, and the chute above it seemed just as massive. She peered up the dark extent, squinting to see if she could see a light at the top. If it was an old enough building... there might not be a cover... Or she could get all the way to the top and find a metal grate blocking her escape... Surely Crowley would have thought of that. If only there was some way to check before she climbed up. And even if she did, then she'd be on the roof! What if there was no way down?

Better that than staying trapped in this room, she decided. There was no way Crowley was letting her go home like he had originally said. Not without some crazy deal. And she _needed_ to go home. As much as she needed air to breathe. The desire was smothering her.

Quickly, she searched the room, hoping for a flashlight, but there didn't seem to be any. Instead, she pulled the lamp from the bedside table and walked over to the fireplace, plugging it into the closest outlet. Taking off the shade, she stuck the bulb into the fire pit and looked up. Disappointment dug nasty claws into her chest as she saw a metal grate just a few yards up, blocking her way to freedom.

 _Damnit!_ She thought to herself, wishing she had stayed at that train station rather than leaving with the King of Hell. But she hadn't really been thinking straight when she had made that decision. All she had wanted was to get away. But now that she was away... Her heart throbbed, and her eyes drifted up towards the windows, as if she could see her house though the walls.

She unplugged the lamp and moved it away from the fireplace, brushing the soot off her hands and knees. Looking around, the girl sighed deeply. She wondered if there was some way to trick a demon, to make a deal then back out of it before she had to pay her part.

Absent-mindedly, she wandered over to the bookshelf and studied the titles. Mostly classics, Tristan and Isolde, Hamlet, War and Peace, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women. Her fingertips traced the spines, pausing over titles in unfamiliar scripts and languages as if her fingers could read what her eyes could not. She pulled out a particularly strange looking book, flipping through the pages. It looked like it was written in runes and hieroglyphs rather than any modern tongue. It was eerily beautiful, but oddly frightening. After only a moment or two, she returned it to its place on the shelf.

A sudden knock resounded heavily through the room, and Alex jumped at the sound. She remembered Crowley's promise to send someone then, and hope leapt into her heart. Quickly, she darted over to the door, thinking fast and grabbing the lamp as she walked past. She held it like a bat in her hands, poising herself beside the door. She heard the latch pull back and slowly the door began to slide open.

"Miss?" Came a timid voice. "I'm here to clean... Miss?" A scrawny man dressed in a black suit and apron stepped into the room, looking about.

Alexandra swung the lamp with all her strength at his head. With a heavy crack, the man crumpled to the floor, eyes smoking black briefly before they rolled shut. She leaned closer, but she couldn't tell if the demon was supposed to be breathing when knocked out.

"Sorry!" The blonde girl breathed softly, before dropping the broken lamp and tugging the door open a bit further. Edging her way through the door, she looked around only briefly, then darted out into the hall beyond.

The stone hallway was lined with wall sconces just like her room had been, and she made her way quickly down it, glancing this way and that as if any shadow could be a demon waiting to grab her. But it seemed like this area of the mansion was abandoned. She rounded a corner and found a window, which she gratefully peered out of. She was on the second floor, it looked like. For a moment, she considered jumping to the courtyard below, but decided to try and get down the old fashioned way first. If she got cornered she'd jump, she decided. She searched the corners and open doorways until she found a set of stairs and descended quickly, her heart racing in her breast. The first window she found she pushed open, and jumped over the slight ledge to drop to the gravel below. She was on the opposite side of the mansion, she realized. A few cars were parked by an open gate. Just before she darted across the open driveway, she ducked behind a bush with a soft gasp as a suited man walked past. She closed her eyes and silently prayed he hadn't seen her.

After a few tense moments, she dared to peer around the bush. But the driveway was empty again. She studied the windows facing the gate, as well as the doorways and corners. They all seemed to be vacant. Bent low, she ran over to a black van, pulling open the driver's side door. A set of keys sat on the seat, and she thanked her good luck as she climbed in. Quickly, she latched the seatbelt and put the keys in the ignition, starting the engine..

"Hey!" Came a gruff voice. Another man in a black suit she hadn't seen before came from beside the gate. He held up his hand and frowned at the girl. "Get out of the van!" He ordered sternly.

Alexandra wasn't in the listening mood. She put the van in gear as the man walked up, hand still up, angry expression on his face. Slamming her foot onto the gas, the tires spun gravel for a few terrifying milliseconds, but then the vehicle jolted forward. The demon's eyes flashed as he tried to dive out of the way, but with a loud THUMP THUMP the van simply rolled over him.

"Sorry!" She said again, though she gathered the man probably couldn't hear her. She glanced in the rearview mirror as she gunned down the gravel road. Her heart still raced in her chest, but the man lay still in the driveway. Maybe she'd have enough time to get away, she hoped quietly to herself.

With no alternative route presenting itself, she followed the long, narrow road through the woods, going as fast as she dared without flipping the car. The minutes ticked by painfully slow, but after twenty or so she reached a main road. She slowed to a stop and looked both ways. Left or right? She wondered quietly. Geography had never been her best subject, and all she knew was she was somewhere near the Adirondack mountains. Putting the car in park, she glanced in her mirrors before opening the glove compartment. Hopefully there would be a map she could use to navigate. Instead, something small, black, and square fell out.

"Oh thank God!" She breathed, picking up the GPS. She quickly typed in her parents' address, ignoring the feeling of dread she felt as she hit CALCULATE. Another few painfully slow minutes ticked by.

"Turn Right." A mechanical female voice resounded.

"Sounds good." The girl replied, shifting back into drive and pulling out of the driveway. Four and a half hours. Then she'd be home...

As one, Gabriel, Castiel, and the Winchesters moved slowly through the dry grass, angel swords at the ready. All three moved warily, glancing from side to side as they moved with practiced silence, spread out across the short field. But the place seemed eerily quiet as the sun set beyond a neighboring old barn and distant treetops.

The house they approached was a dull brown, with worn wood siding that was torn and broken in places. A faded wooden balcony wrapped around the back and part of the side, obviously hand made, covering a concrete porch that was cracked in places, plants growing up between the six foot crumbling slabs. Windows lined one wall of the house next to the porch, stretching from ground to roof, revealing a cluttered dining and living room beyond. The whole place, though large, seemed well loved. The people who had once resided within may have not had all the money in the world, but anyone could tell they kept the place together with what they had and cared for it as best they could. The lawn was spattered with things, from an old wheelbarrow to a small pile of scrap wood. There was a potted plant sitting by the door on the back stoop, and a hummingbird feeder hanging from a nail on the balcony. Sam reached the sliding door on the porch first, glancing at the others before reaching out with one hand and rolling it open.

Quietly, he eased into the house, a fireplace set at its center, an old 80s style kitchen lining the back right corner. Beyond the fireplace that half divided the wall-less first floor was a cluttered dining table, set behind a large, dark green couch with matching armchairs which faced a flatscreen TV. The ceiling steepled above them, surpassing the second floor along the windows and reaching all the way to the roof. A plaster and wood balcony made up one hallway half-wall of the second floor, and he could see towels and knick-knacks abandoned on its top. Almost every inch of viable wall space was lined with picture frames, most featuring three children. One boy with blonde hair, the other taller one with brown. The third child was a girl with startlingly sky blue eyes and blonde hair. They were smiling, always, in every frame. Each picture told a story; apple picking in fall, tree climbing in summer, taking a bath together in a yellow tub. And along the wall the children slowly grew older, grew up. Older frames with faded pictures depicted times long past, while in between, as if hung in whatever space was left available, new frames with more vibrant colors featured scenes of weddings and graduations and new births. Scenes of happiness. Scenes of family.

Sam glanced around, making sure the room was as empty as it seemed before he walked over to one wall, studying the pictures with a grave expression. Castiel paused beside the base of the stairs, staring at three columns of pictures that rolled up the walls around the stairs, each column a different child, each frame a different year. Labels had been stuck to the bottoms of the frames; Kevin, 2.6 years, Christopher, 6.8 years... Alex, 4 months...

The pair exchanged a solemn look, before Castiel made his way up the stairs to clear the second floor. Another set of stairs led down into a lower level with a laundry room, then to another stairwell with a basement. Sam quickly cleared those two areas as Castiel cleared the second floor and the loft above. Dean and Gabriel circled around the outside of the house, clearing the yard and detached three-bay garage before coming in the front door.

"It's empty." Sam confirmed as he came back up the stairs.

"Seems maybe all this caution was for nothing." Gabriel exclaimed as he pushed aside a few papers on the table with his sword. "Our brothers aren't here."

"Why not?" Dean growled suspiciously.

The archangel shrugged. "I'm not a mindreader, Dean-o." He told him, walking around the table to study the frames on the back wall of the living room. One, a beautiful sketch of an old church, caught his eye, and he studied it thoughtfully. Beside it, a copper-brown haired four year old held a fat, bald baby boy on his lap, the old photo faded from years in the sun.

"It doesn't make any sense." Castiel looked about, confused.

"Maybe they felt guilty." Sam suggested, looking at an old photo of a man with a thick copper-brown beard and a grey suit standing beside a brown-haired woman in a white dress and hat before a grandfather clock. Beside that wedding shot was another faded photo of the same couple, sitting on a rock wall, leaning on each other with hands entwined.

"That'd be a first." Dean grunted, then rubbed his face with one hand. "Even if they aren't here now, they might come back. So let's get busy warding the place."

"Guess we're uninvited." Gabriel scoffed to Castiel as the boys began pulling out spray cans from their coats. Castiel ignored him, walking around with slow steps.

The angel looked around the place, from a mug filled with cold coffee on the end table beside a computer, to the book left open on the arm of a couch, to the walls covered with pictures. "...Seems almost cruel to alter this place..." He noted softly.

Sam hesitated, looking around. There wasn't exactly open wall space anywhere to draw the warding, and Castiel was right. The house seemed like a still-frame in time, capturing the life of a family that would never be able to use it again.

Dean glanced over at his brother, obviously thinking the same thing. Reason told him it was just a house. It didn't matter what was on the walls or where he sprayed the warding. But part of him, deep down in places that didn't often see the light, cringed at the thought of ruining this home. Ruining what was left of this family. He looked around, seeing the story a different way. Seeing what he and Sam might have had if the yellow eyed demon had never crossed their paths. His heart throbbed and he gritted his teeth, looking down at the spray can in his hand, fighting his emotions.

"Not exactly the flies I intended to catch in my trap," Came a cold voice from behind the men "But I'll take the time to wipe out your pathetic, traitorous existences as well."

All four spun, yet even as they raised their swords, more angels appeared with a flutter of wings around them. Two grabbed Dean, one on each arm, three grabbed Sam, and another three surrounded Castiel. Their swords clattered to the ground, leaving only Gabriel left, but with four angels standing by him with weapons readied, he didn't look eager to jump into action.

"Raphael!" Snarled Dean, trying to tug himself free of the angels that held him.

The tall, dark skinned man that stood before them kept his hands clasped behind his back, a stoic expression fixed upon the features of his serious face. He studied the Winchesters and Castiel as one might a piece of gum stuck to their shoe, dark eyes smoldering with distain.

"Hey! Raph! Brother!" Gabriel tried, smiling wide and opening his arms. "Good to see you, buddy!"

Raphael glanced at Gabriel briefly, and his lips twitched. "Gabriel. I had heard you were alive as well. I see you enjoy crawling in the filth these days." He looked back over at the brothers and Castiel. "I will give you a choice, then. Stay with these putrid lifeforms clapped in irons, or stay out of my way and I'll let you do as you please."

The surrounded archangel looked between his other brother and the Winchesters, his face complicated and unreadable. He gave a small, sad smile, sheathing his sword guiltily. "Well... You know me... never one to jump into a fight..." He said softly.

"Coward!" Growled Dean, trying to shake loose his captors.

"Excellent choice, brother." Raphael commended him coldly, turning. "Take the cockroaches and the traitor to the barn. We'll leave a message for the abomination, and it'll come to its death willingly. No more hiding." He instructed the other angels.

Gabriel looked sternly at Sam as the angels dragged him past and out the door. Tried to tell him with his eyes everything he couldn't say with his mouth. But the look the younger Winchester gave him told the archangel that he didn't believe him. Gritting his teeth, he looked over at his own brother.

"So... waiting for the girl, hm?" He asked, stepping a little closer to the other archangel.

"If _it_ may be called as much." He replied curtly. Then raised one hand. Upon the wooden door that lead to a small mud room beside the main entrance, thin lines of light traced out scratched letters with a high-pitched whine.

Gabriel cleared his throat as the shine faded away. "Classy... very classy..."

Raphael turned his hawk-gaze upon his fellow archangel, narrowing his eyes. "I warn you, brother. Should you try to betray me, I shall show no mercy."

Gabriel chuckled darkly. "Wouldn't be my brother if you did."

She was almost there. Although the GPS continued to speak out directions, she didn't need them anymore. Hadn't needed them for almost an hour. She made the moves without even thinking; left off the highway, straight past the gas station, a right at the broken tree. A hollow fear stabbed at her chest, and her eyes kept watching the clock on the dash as she drew closer and closer. Her lips and fingers tingled, her breath sounded like waves in her ears and her heart pounded like a drum. Outside, clouds gathered in the dark night sky. Five more minutes. The world around her, the town she had grown up in... it seemed just as she had remembered it. There was nothing that told her this all hadn't been a dream... maybe she _would_ finally wake up...

The last quarter mile was a straight shot to the bottom of the dirt road that lead to her parent's house. She could make out the mailboxes at its base. Her heart thudded painfully when she also saw the flowers and signs draped about them; though it was too dark for her to really see them, luckily. But she forced her eyes away anyway, looking up instead to the beacon beyond the trees; her childhood home.

Just as she flipped on her left blinker to turn onto the drive, she saw him. Standing in his black suit, hands tucked into his pockets, barely silhouetted by a distant streetlight. He waited beside the sign that was a horrible rendition of her neighborhood. For a moment, she considered trying to run him over too. But instead, she slowed to a stop beside him after crossing the opposite lane and put the van in park.

Crowley climbed into the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. She didn't move at first, fear gripping her chest. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, instead staring at the steering wheel in her hands. Memories of their last encounter stitched her heart to the front of her chest. She half expected him to lash out at her, or to snap his fingers and zip them away. But he did nothing, just sat in silence and stared out the front windshield.

"...I have to go..." She said finally, so softly it was barely above a whisper "...I...I have to see..."

The demon gave a heavy sigh, and rubbed one hand across his beard. "You know its a trap. They're waiting for you there." He nodded up towards the house.

She rolled her hands against the worn steering wheel. "...Please..." She whispered. "...I...I-I have to see..."

Crowley studied her drawn face, then looked back up at the house. He could see the lights on through the windows, waiting for her. A flame drawing her in. But he could also _feel_ her sorrow, her desperation, permeating through the air in thick waves of suffering... he could never have her to himself until she saw with her own eyes that her old life was gone, he reasoned.

So he nodded, gritting his teeth and readying himself mentally for a fight and flee situation. "Go on then, love." He told her.

Her hands shook as she put the van back into gear. Each hole and bump they bounced over was as familiar to her as the notes of a music box. Each inch closer to her old home drew daggers through her chest. As the headlights turned onto the driveway and the garage beyond, her heart skipped a beat. The porch light was on. Just like when her mother knew she was coming home. She rolled to a stop, not bothering to park beside the red prius and old black truck. Her parents' cars. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe they _were_ home... just waiting for her.

Numbly, she opened the door, not even bothering to cut the engine. She dropped the short step to the driveway, feeling the familiar crunch of gravel beneath her feet. Slowly, she walked towards the cracked steps that led up to the white door. Slowly, she reached out her hand. It was never locked... They never locked the door...

It took all her strength to push open that door, and as it swung open with a familiar scraping sound along the tile floor beyond, she felt her heart roll into knots and sink into the pit of her stomach. She stepped up, through the door, into the mudroom, then pushed open the wooden door with the screen window into the living and dining room.

The lights were on; an old two bulb chandelier that had a horse and rider statuette between the black topped lamps, a few white spotlights on the old beam that stretched from the internal balcony to the fireplace. The old, round, clay lamp by the TV. She walked in, the tile broken in all the same places she remembered.

"...Mom?" She called out softly "...Dad?" Her voice trembled, and she looked up to the master bedroom's window. The lights were out in that room.

Moving deeper into the house, she glanced over her shoulder. Part of her hoped the demon wouldn't be there. That he was a figment of her imagination, and now that she was back to her home, he would be gone in an eerie wisp of smoke. But the King of Hell stood in the doorway, looking about warily. Swallowing hard, she turned back to her house, walking over to the cluttered dining table. They rarely ever actually ate at it. Just for holidays. She reached out and touched the plastic tablecloth gingerly. As if afraid the whole place would crumble about her. Turning, she looked over to the living room. Saw her mother's book, and her father's computer. Her gaze lingered on the full cup of cold coffee, but she turned away before she could think on it too hard. Behind her, Crowley closed the front door, stepping through the mudroom.

The pictures hurt the most. Her brothers, her parents. Her sisters-in-law. Her cousins and aunts and uncles. Her niece and nephew. They all stared at her with smiling faces as she walked to the kitchen. It was empty, a loaf of bread with the plastic rolled and tucked under and a plate of fruit on the counter that was starting to go bad. She peered down towards the laundry room, but the lights were off. She reached out and placed her palm on the fireplace. It was cold to the touch.

"...Hello?" She called out softly, pain beginning to fill her voice. Although hope still clenched at her heart strings, the emptiness of the house sang a different tune.

Crowley watched her, hands in his pockets. He glanced about the house, but he too felt the empty stillness that permeated the air. There was no one here. Not her family, as he knew, but not the angels either. He gritted his teeth as he tried to make sense of it, tried to figure out where they were. But his thoughts were clouded. All he could think about was **her** ; her pain, her suffering. It melted into him in waves, as sharp as if it was his own. A mortality he hadn't felt in centuries; not even when he had become addicted to human blood. _Damn it,_ he thought silently to himself, stepping further into the house and closing the wooden door behind him. The half-glowing letters there snapped him back to reality.

"Hart." He called to her softly.

She turned at his voice, then hurried back over, almost hopefully. But the words on the door made her freeze cold...

 _Come to the barn, or the Winchesters die._

Guilt stabbed at her, and she looked over at the demon fearfully. "What do we do?" She asked him desperately.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Even if I get all my black eyed boys, they'll have warded the place against demons if they have half a brain." He looked over at her. "We need to go. Now. These are fresh, so the angels aren't far. You came back, just like you wanted. Now its time to go."

She shook her head vigorously. "We can't just leave them!"

"And I can't fight a battalion of angels. Neither can you." Crowley pointed out, almost irritatedly. "The boys wouldn't want you risking your life for them, and I'm not about to let you either."

"They'll die!"

The demon shrugged. "They might already be dead for all we know. Or maybe someone else will save them; the boys have other friends. Going over there will just get you all killed. Maybe we can find another way to save them, but not here. Not now. We have to leave."

Tears began to form in her eyes. "No! There has to be something we can do!"

It was sinking in then. Her throat throbbed and her legs shook, threatening to give out beneath her. The house was empty... her family wasn't here. It wasn't all a dream. Everything she had swept aside as the delusions of an insane person were now rolling into the light. The past few days, more full of danger than the rest of her life combined, washed over her. Her family was gone; every single one of them. Her mother, her father, her brothers, her sisters. Her cousins and aunts and uncles... her niece and nephew... But Sam. Dean. Castiel. They were all real. They had all cared about her... tried to help her. And she had run away. She had refused to see the truth, refused to accept reality. She had left their safety, exposed herself and them to all the dangers they had tried to protect her from. The last real friends she would ever make might lose their lives. Because of her. Because she ran, instead of facing her pain. Anger filled her, frustration rolled across her skin. She was just so weak. So helpless. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't save her family. She couldn't save her friends.

Her vision blurred behind tears of frustration. "...There has to be something..."

He shook his head again. "Sorry, love. I just don't have enough power."

Alex looked back at the words on the door, her heart racing in her chest, realization and determination filling the features of her face. "...But I do."

"What?"

She spun, looking at the King of Hell. "I'll make you that deal."

He blinked, confused. "You'll... what?"

"My powers now for your candidacy later." She told him.

He couldn't hide the shock from his face. "...I'll father the God child?"

She nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes. If you give me my powers now, you can be the father."

The King of Hell stared at her. "You're willing to make the deal now?! To save the Winchesters?"

"PLEASE, Crowley." She begged. "I can't let anyone else die because of me! Please!"

He shook his head angrily. "It's stupid! It's idiotic!"

"Why?" She asked, her voice rushed "You said so yourself; the most powerful soul that ever was or ever will be. Couldn't I take on a few angels with that soul?"

He paused, considering it. "Well, I suppose-"

"Then YES! That's my answer. I'll make the deal."

Still the demon hesitated. "The boys have made it out of hairier situations before. None come to mind right now, but I don't think you should rush into this-"

"Why are you arguing?" She shouted at him "Isn't this what you wanted?"

That surprised him. Why _was_ he fighting this? Because she was doing it for the Winchesters and Castiel? Because she was desperate and clinging to straws? Why did it bother him so much that this was how he was going to win?

The demon didn't say anything at first, looking over at the door and the message carved into it. "Are you sure this is what you want, love?" He pressed, though he internally kicked himself for doing so. "There will be no backing out later."

She took a steadying breath, but nodded, resolute. "Yes. If it even gives me the slightest chance of saving them...then yes."

Crowley turned to face her properly, closing the space between them with a single stride. "I will grant you access to your innate powers _now_ , as you would have accessed them in the future, and in exchange, I will be the biological father and father figure of your future God child." He told her, reaching out one hand and tucking it into the base of her hair, pulling her face closer to his. His other hand wrapped about her waist, tugging her body up to his. "Do you agree to the terms?"

Alexandra's heart raced in her breast, and her breath came in soft, shallow gasps. Her hands trembled, her lips quivered. Everything came down to this moment. She felt fear gripping at her, shadowy claws digging into her chest. But she tightened her jaw stubbornly. And nodded.

"...Yes, I agree."

"The deal is struck." The King of Hell breathed, and leaned down.

She closed her eyes as his hot lips pressed against her's.


End file.
